Divergent Souls
by andrhats
Summary: Ripples upon ripples. One little change begets another, and another, and another. One sister dies, the other lives. A young Gerudo takes action to prevent certain disaster, and changes the course of history. The Prophecy of the Hero of Time does not come to pass. Everything is different - but will it be for the better? AU of the Souls universe. Rampant OCs.
1. I

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

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**Since this AU of the AU quickly grew into a different beast entirely from the five small chapters I envisioned, I have decided to separate them from the "Tales from the Souls Universe"-entry. As usual, if you have not read the Souls Trilogy (Mates, Remnants, Secrets), then none of this will make a lick of sense. Also, I decided to rename the story to "Divergent Souls", to make it a little more distinct.**

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**Divergent Souls  
I**

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The letter crumpled in his hand as his fingers curled into a fist, so tightly that he could his fingernails digging painfully into his skin, which was still tender from the burn he'd received in the fighting days before. The servant who'd brought the offending piece of paper eyed him nervously, having not been dismissed and knowing from experience that walking away before the word was given would be punished severely. He did not know what the letter contained, but from his master's reaction it was...unpleasant. His lord breathed heavily, leaning against the wall, his focus so far away the servant doubted he could even see the carpeted hallway around them.

"My lord?" he asked after several minutes of anxious waiting, wondering whether _he'd_ be punished for bringing him such bad news.

His master's eyes focused on the servant, his face turning stone-like in appearance as he consciously smoothed away any undignified reactions. Another few seconds were used for calming his breathing until it was controlled and, above all else, normal. He stood away from the wall, straightening up the slouch that had overcome him upon reading the letter. Not even a grimace of pain showed as the numerous wounds from the fighting underneath his fine clothing were surely stretched uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and blinked, his eyes no longer glassy.

"Leave me. Fetch a bottle of Lancerre from the cellar and leave it in my chambers. See to my guests."

"Yes, my lord," the servant said, thankfully scurrying away, relieved that no reprimands would be had.

He watched the servant disappear quickly, wishing dearly he had something to kill to make the ache in his heart go away, to disguise and lock away the part of him that wanted to rage and cry at the unfairness of the world. But Lord Kolvar Rinir was nothing if not cool and in absolute control of himself even in the face of the absolute worst nightmares that mere existence could conjure up. Even this. Even knowing that, two days earlier, his wife had died. The love of his life, slaughtered along with most of her guards, on the damn road like a bloody commoner who hadn't the wits or guts to protect themselves, like a helpless babe, a pathetic weakling, a...a...

He punched the wall as hard as he could, not caring about the dent it left or the vicious pain ripping through his knuckles, one of which split open. Blood dripped onto the expensive carpet, but he cared not.

Elia...his Elia...

Fifteen years earlier, he would never have imagined reacting this way to her death. Sometimes he'd even wished for it...or his own, for that matter. Anything to escape the hellish marriage they'd been forced into. But she'd wormed her way into his heart as he had into hers, almost unnoticeably and certainly without meaning to...and they had found _something_ to cherish about each other.

And now she was gone. Dead. Still lying on the road if the carrion eaters hadn't gotten to her yet. He should have known better than to send her south. It was almost as dangerous as going east, these days, with those damn thieves roaming the fields like a pack of wolves. He should have killed more of them when he had the chance the week before. No matter, though...surely he would have another chance in the next skirmish. That is, if the damn coward on the throne didn't give in to the Gerudo's demands... No, even the _king_ wasn't that spineless.

No, the war would continue, and he would take great pleasure in going into battle again and again, until the last bitch lay bleeding on the ground in front of him...preferably surrounded by dead Sheikah...not that _they_ would pose a threat ever again, thanks to the latest ambush. The second to last female had been killed in _that_ particular battle. Kolvar had seen it...and seen _to_ it...

He opened his fist and re-read the letter, scanning the one line that had given him hope for his family's future. The writing itself was barely legible-the guard who'd written it was only just qualified to be called literate and made no effort to improve that particular aspect of his penmanship-but the meaning was clear as day.

_The boy lives. Will escort him to the mansion once the road is clear._

Kerran was alive. That was the most important thing in the letter. His son had survived the attack, and was going to be home in a matter of weeks.

All had nearly been lost, in that single attack. He had lost his wife, but her work in shaping the next branch of the Rinir line had ended, so in time the pain would go away.

Or so he hoped.

"Papa?"

The voice was small, almost pathetic in its nervous pitch with an undertone of hope. Kolvar concealed the fright it had given him and turned around. The girl had become increasingly adept at sneaking up on him, and he didn't like it. It reminded him too much of those damn shadows. He glared down at her.

"You're supposed to be in bed," he stated gruffly.

"Heard you shout," she muttered, gazing up at him with wide eyes, clutching her stuffed animal toy like it would protect her. She always did that around him. It drove him insane. Why couldn't she speak and act like a proper person? It only made it even more difficult to find her a future suitor.

Elia would disapprove of the way he handled her. She always did. But his wife had never truly understood the importance of heirs and why it was paramount the first child in any noble marriage be male. Anything else was...unacceptable. And yet he'd been saddled with this snivelling child. Sometimes, he even wondered if she was truly his. The facial similarity was too great for her to be anything but, of course, but sometimes he _wished_...

"And?" he asked. "How does that give you permission to leave your room? You are not to roam the halls unless going to or from your room!"

She didn't answer, fidgeting uncomfortably under his gaze. Surely Kerran would not act like this when he grew older? He would be like his father, proud and strong, able to meet any disapproving gaze with a glare that would send the Gerudo running for the hills. His daughter, however...she'd inherited Elia's demeanour, it seemed. Handling confrontation simply wasn't in their nature. Not surprising, of course. Hylian women simply didn't have the guts for it. None of them did.

He was about to admonish her when the nanny came through the door, looking positively frazzled. She spotted the girl and scowled. "Akia, there you are! I've been worried to bits!" She paused when she spotted Kolvar, eyes widening. "A thousand pardons, my lord!" she cried. "I lost sight of her for but a moment, and she was gone!"

He glared. "Is there a reason for why my daughter is still awake at this hour?" It was nearly midnight, for goddesses' sake! "I am paying you to mind her, not give in to her whims."

"She could not sleep, sir," the nanny replied, picking up Kolvar's daughter in a tight grip, ensuring the girl could not escape once more. "The guests...there is a lot of noise."

Kolvar scowled. True, his inner circle was hardly quiet once the wine began to flow, but honestly! "Then I suggest you find a way to put her to sleep _despite_ _it_," he practically growled.

"Yes, my lord." What else was there to say in the face of a noble's anger? It was either that, be let go...or worse. One never knew with nobles, after all.

"Now, I expect no more interruptions from her tonight," he said, tossing a glare at his daughter, who seemed to shrink in the nanny's arms. "Even if I have to lock her door from the outside."

"It will not happen, my lord. I swear it."

"Hmph," he grunted. "I highly suggest you learn how to calm her. Her mother won't be around to do it anymore."

Whether it was from surprise or from the way he chose to deliver how to deliver the news, he did not know (probably a combination of both), but the nanny's mouth fell open all the same, eyes wide with shock. "Lady Elia...?" she asked quietly.

"Is dead," Kolvar finished, ignoring the twinge in his chest from saying it. The sooner everyone got past it, the better. "Killed by the Gerudo. My son survived." A loud roar of laughter came from the other end of the hallway, from the comfortable sofas and burning fireplace in the second parlour. His guests were getting rowdier by the second, and if he was to successfully broach the subject he had in mind tonight, he would have to get back to them before everyone was too drunk to remember it the next day. "Now, I must attend to my guests." He made to walk away, but his daughter's quiet voice stopped him once more.

"Mama's...dead?"

Tears were already gathering in Akia's eyes, and Kolvar could not help but sneer. Four years old. Surely it was time to stop crying? "Yes, she is. Your mother is gone." He looked at the nanny. "Put her to bed, and make sure she _stays_ there this time."

The nanny hurried away with Akia in her arms, and Kolvar ignored his daughter's cries, deciding to focus on his speech to his inner circle...and trying not to imagine the nightmares that would haunt him that night. Elia was gone. Dwelling on it would not help. And what else could he do to honour her memory than by raising their children to be strong? Akia would learn, along with Kerran, that one needed to be _hard_ to survive in this world.

Yes, that would be the legacy he left behind. That would be House Rinir's reputation.

He halted on his way to the second parlour, stopping by their-his, now-chambers. The servant had been diligent in his service, as was expected of anyone in his household. The bottle stood on the nightstand by his side of the bed. It was strong stuff, usually meant for small sips at the time. He uncorked the bottle and took a huge swig, focusing on the burning in his throat. Another three swigs were needed before he felt the jittering in his chest go away, replaced by the warm haze of slowly approaching inebriation. He'd have time to pitch his plan.

Steeling himself, he left his chambers and headed for the parlour, plastering his best fake cheerful mask on his face as he entered. "Gentlemen," he announced, drawing every eye in the room to himself. Together, they represented nearly half of Hyrule's military strength. They could not fail. "Regarding the Gerudo: I have a plan..."

_To be continued..._

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**Father of the Year Lord Rinir is not.**

**I wanted to see what would happen in a timeline where Link **_**isn't**_** the Hero of Time, and that the whole war with Ganondorf went a little differently than it did both in the canon Ocarina of Time and my insane AU of it. Needless to say, this story is not canon to the Souls stories. Just an interesting little series of what-ifs, really. Hope you enjoyed the first one!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

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**Divergent Souls  
II  
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"Well?"

Kolvar leaned back in his chair, looking down his nose at the bedraggled governess on the other side of his desk. She was a mess—her dress was covered in mud, her hair a frazzled mess from the wind, and the less said about her shoes the better. She looked like she had been dragged across a field during a rainstorm. It was a comical sight, and he would have laughed had it not been for his study's third current occupant. At the governess' side stood Akia, equally filthy, though a triumphantly smug look on her face told him she was anything but apologetic about the situation.

"I'm sorry, my lord," the governess—Irma, or some such name, he could never remember—said, curtsying and hissing for Akia to do the same. His daughter gave Irma (or was Mari?) a defiant look and made a miniscule, half-hearted attempt at one. "I had to fetch one of my books for the history lesson, and she was gone when I returned."

Kolvar fixed his daughter with a penetrating gaze, feeling like this was the millionth conversation about her that had begun with her running off when her minder's attention was turned elsewhere. How many punishments had she received for this, he wondered. When would she learn? Verbal lashings had done nothing to improve his oldest child's rebellious nature, nor had they dulled her sharp tongue. Corporeal punishment had, if anything, only made her worse. Goddesses knew what made the girl such a glutton for it.

"And?" he asked Akia. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"No, Father," she said, holding his gaze in a frighteningly similar manner to Elia's. Only she got away with it. Damned if Kolvar would allow his own bloody child to defy him like this!

"No?" he said, removing his spectacles and placing them gently on his desk and leaning forward, frowning. "So you will not apologise to..." His gaze flicked towards the governess, who opened her mouth to remind him of her name. "...your _teacher_ for running off and causing her to make a mess of herself catching you? For wasting both her _and_ my time with your idiocy? For bringing shame upon your House by blatantly disrespecting me?"

Looking at her, Kolvar doubted he would ever find her a husband. At least not among his inner circle—among the families he actually respected. They had all seen the way she acted and spoke—most unladylike—and said that they would not waste their precious sons on such a...a...

The word did not even bear repeating. Not even when Kolvar found himself agreeing with it.

At fourteen years old, Akia Rinir was nothing like he had envisioned her. True, he had been disappointed to find his firstborn child was a girl, but even that was a situation that could be turned around. It was all about finding the silver lining. She would not, of course, bring honour to their house, but she was certainly a means to bind House Rinir closer to one of the more powerful noble houses of Hyrule, such as the Layrs. What the Layrs lacked in military strength they more than made up for in political acumen, and it was no secret they controlled half of Castle Town at this point. They would have been a powerful ally, but Lord Layr had taken one look at Kolvar's eldest during the last ball and found her extremely wanting, and certainly not a suitable match for his eldest son.

The girl simply would not fall in line. She disobeyed him at every opportunity. Even when she _did_ do as she was told, it was only with minimal effort. Every task was completed in a shoddy, but still acceptable way, if only barely. She _acted_ respectfully when even she saw the necessity, but there was always an undercurrent of sarcasm in her tone. Her words _seemed_ pleasant on the surface, but they concealed a deep loathing for every other nobleman or -woman she was faced with. It was good most of them were too dense to realise they were being insulted, and Kolvar managed to distract the rest.

The truth remained, however, that the girl was a problem, and he was running out of ways to keep her from irreparably damaging his relationship with the other nobles. He was on shaky enough ground as it was from his failed plan to extend the war with the Gerudo a decade before, and he had a feeling he'd be ostracised soon if he didn't deal with Akia in a severe enough manner to make her step back in line.

But how?

Akia did not answer, but still held his gaze. He would have been impressed, had it not been for how infuriating her acting out was.

He wanted to sigh out loud, but repressed the urge and nodded. "Very well," he said. "Take her to Lobson, and tell him what she did. He knows what to do."

The governess hesitated, but nodded and left the office, dragging Akia behind her all the same. She disagreed with the way he handled his daughter's rebellion, he knew. She never said so, but he could tell. She wanted to tell him he was too severe, too strict, too demanding. But it was not her place to say these things, and she had better remember that. Akia was _his_ child, and _he_, and _only_ he, would have a say in how she was to be raised.

He would never strike her, though. It was a great shame for a parent to lay a hand on a child in anything but love—or any adult, for that matter. The Goddesses saw it as a sin.

Lobson had no such qualms, luckily. He would gladly show defiant little ones what's what. Sometimes Kolvar found himself forgetting what Lobson's proper job in his household was (stable master and occasional smith), on account of the many times he'd been forced to send Akia to him for punishment.

He released the sigh he'd been holding in once his door was closed, and he shuffled the papers on his desk, trying to find a piece of correspondence that would actually be entertaining to reply to.

Where was it...?

Ah, yes. The letter with the royal seal. He opened it and scanned the neat handwriting. An invitation to the annual harvest ball, with a special reminder to bring both his children. That made him smile. Akia was a lost cause, but Kerran...Kerran had potential. He was nothing like his sister. He was obedient and polite, and did as he was told at all times. It was a wonder he even considered Akia kin, much less loved her as much as he did, given their differences in everything but appearance.

He read the letter once more, imagining why the king specifically asked him to bring his children. It was no secret the old man had finally decided to find a future husband for his daughter, the Princess Zelda. She would turn eleven a week or so before the ball, and while nothing tangible would be decided that night, it was a tentative start. And Kolvar already knew the king was considering his Kerran a suitable match. They were the same age, and while House Rinir had grown somewhat distant in the wake of the Third Gerudo-Hylian War, he still thought the world of his friend, Lord Kolvar. Surely, the joining of their families could not be anything but a boon for everyone?

Kolvar smiled, imagining ten-year-old Kerran meeting the young princess and immediately creating a bond with her. She would tell her father she loved Kerran, and that would be it... As soon as they came of age, the wedding would be held...and House Rinir's legacy would be everlasting.

That is, if Akia could be tamed, which he doubted.

Abandoning such thoughts, he went back to his letter, immediately beginning to draw up a reply.

Not once did he consider what Elia would have wanted for her children. What was the point? She was dead. And he had moved past it long ago.

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He woke up, finding his study shrouded in darkness. The oil in the lamp had burned out hours ago. He turned his head, wincing at how stiff it was and the cracking sound it made as he looked to the window. The autumnal wind was causing the curtains to billow, almost creating the illusion of someone standing behind them. Scoffing, he stood up and walked across the study, slamming the window closed and latching it firmly.

The clock on the wall, its metal arms reflecting the moonlight, told him it was nearly midnight. The house was quiet, most of its inhabitants having gone to sleep hours ago. None had come to disturb him, as he made it clear whenever he worked. It was a good thing no one had found him asleep at his desk. Such a thing was unacceptable.

He had no more oil for his lamp, and the thought of heading downstairs to find more was not appealing to him, so he lit a large candle instead. He had not finished his reply to the king before falling asleep, but the ink had luckily not smudged, so he could continue exactly where he'd left off. He found his good cheer returning quickly as he made it more than clear that he and his children be absolutely _delighted_ to attend the harvest ball, and hoped that they would finally get to meet the young princess who had been so sheltered since her mother tragically passed away eight years ago.

The future looked bright for the Rinir family indeed!

Kolvar finished his signature with a flourish of his pen and leaned back to admire his handiwork. Ah, yes. His penmanship had always been a point of pride to him. It was important for a lord of his status to master both the arts of war _and_ the word. His father had struggled with both, but Kolvar had surpassed him greatly.

Setting down his pen, he opened his drawer and found a stick of sealing wax and the matrix bearing his seal. As he made to fold the letter, something occurred to him. The realisation caused him to stiffen in his seat and sent a chill down his spine. The sleep must have addled his brain for him to have not noticed.

When he'd fallen asleep, the window had been _closed_.

No one entered the study without his permission. No one.

His heart began to beat faster as he tried to will his body to move. There was a dagger in his drawer, the same one he used to open letters. Why wouldn't his hands move?

As he struggled, his mind tried to tell him the one thing he did not want to know. Something that terrified him.

He was not alone in his study.

It was not a matter of speculation. He had never been a paranoid man, nor did he feel like one now. He tried to speak, but his voice would not emerge from his throat, as if it, like him, was too frightened to move. He was not being foolish...and was that the sound of breathing, behind him?

All thoughts of this being a dream or merely the product of a sleep-addled brain came crashing down when he felt a very firm, very _sharp_ pressure on his throat, and the weight of a hand on his left shoulder. Warm air ghosted over his pointed ear as a mouth was brought close to it. Try as he might, Kolvar could not even turn his head to look at his attacker, frozen in his seat. The mouth by his ear breathed in and out twice, agonisingly slow.

Then, the grip on his shoulder tightened, and the female voice spoke: "For my sister."

The knife sliced cleanly through the weak skin, opening Lord Kolvar's throat from ear to ear. Blood poured down his front, his body going limp in seconds. The hand let go of his shoulder, and he slumped forward onto his desk, drenching the letter to the king with his life's fluid and knocking the candle over, which immediately ignited the numerous letters and maps that covered the desk's surface. Head turned to the side, the last thing Lord Kolvar Rinir saw was the slender frame of his assassin walking towards the window through which she'd entered, opening it, and disappearing into the night. Then his world went dark, and his body burned.

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Excerpt from a letter from King Rhys II of Hyrule to Miss Mari, governess to and temporary guardian of Lady Akia and Lord Kerran Rinir:

_**...with great sadness that I have learned of Lord Kolvar's passing. I considered the man a dear friend, despite our differences in the past, and his death was far from the dignified and peaceful end he deserved. Given the feelings of enmity between Lord Kolvar and his peers, I feel it is my duty and privilege to ensure that his children are protected, cared for, and educated under my personal supervision. Therefore, I hereby name them Wards of the King until they reach the age of majority, whereupon they will be free to do as they please with the Rinir holdings. **_

_**I have sent my most trusted soldiers to fetch the children and bring them to the Royal Castle. I thank you for your service, but they will no longer be needed. Please ensure the children are ready to travel as soon as they arrive.**_

_**Rhys R.**_

_To be continued…_

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**At least the kids are free from their tyrannical father now!**


	3. III

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

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**Divergent Souls  
III**

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The carriage rattled across the cobbles as they wound their way through the crowded streets of Castle Town, the driver having to stop the carriage every now and then to wait for the road to clear of the throngs of celebrating city dwellers. Today marked the seventh year since a truce had been called and hostilities between Hyrule and the Gerudo had ended, albeit temporarily. Neither side seemed keen on resuming the fighting anytime soon, though, and rumours were that a permanent peace agreement would soon be reached between King Rhys and King Ganondorf, and even if it truly were just a rumour, it was still worth celebrating.

Akia found herself unable to feel the same elation as the people outside their carriage, however; her thoughts kept returning to the burned-out ruins of the Rinir mansion, which they'd left behind a week earlier, escorted by the king's most trusted...or so she had been told. They certainly _seemed_ formidable, but...

The air around the Rinir grounds had still smelled of charred wood, and Miss Mari had tried to prevent her from looking at the remains of her home, but failed miserably. Akia had felt...empty upon watching it, recalling the panicked events of the night of the fire. It had started so suddenly, apparently in her father's study, and quickly consumed a third of the second story. She'd been roused from sleep by Miss Mari violently shaking her awake, with a confused and frightened Kerran carried under her arm, screeching that they had to get out. She hadn't completely understood what was happening, and the horrid woman had practically dragged Akia out of her bed, aggravating her sore and stiff muscles from Lobson's treatment. Needless to say, this had not endeared the strict governess to the elder Rinir child in the slightest.

Still, she had gotten both Akia and Kerran out of the building before the fire consumed them all, saving their lives. Akia supposed she could feel a _miniscule _amount of gratitude for that, though she'd still been thrilled to learn that the governess had been sacked (by the _King himself_, no less!) and that they'd be going to the Royal Palace, as official Wards of the King.

It had been a lot of news to take in while still reeling from the realisation that their father had not made it out of the building in time. His study had been locked from the inside, preventing anyone from entering it to save him. Lord Kolvar Rinir was dead. And she didn't know how to feel about it. She had a suspicion she was in some sort of shock. The intense hatred she'd felt for him every day since his callous announcement of her mother's death had died down immediately upon learning of his demise, replaced by just...emptiness. She hadn't cried, she hadn't smiled, she hadn't even felt a little sad. There was just...nothing.

She glanced to her right where Kerran sat, staring out the other carriage window with eerily blank eyes. Where Akia suspected she herself was in shock, she was unsure of where her little brother stood on the matter of their father's death. His only reaction to being informed of Kolvar's passing had been a nod and a calm "I understand," acknowledgement. She had never known her brother to be particularly expressive of his feelings (assuming their father hadn't had Lobson beat _those_ out of him as well), but this was...unusual, even for the soft-spoken, mild-mannered Kerran Rinir.

She was worried. She loved her little brother above all else in the world. As far as she was concerned, he was all she had left of the family she'd once loved as a young child, and all that had kept her from properly running away. The idea of leaving little Kerran to face Kolvar's anger and abuse all by himself had been abhorrent to her, and she would gladly serve as a distraction and a target for all of Kolvar's ire if it meant Kerran was left alone. She'd tried desperately to preserve what she remembered of their mother in him, but their father had given no quarter in his mad quest to ensure Kerran was a worthy heir, and she feared she'd lost him completely now.

Kerran turned his head to look at her, a small frown on his face as he studied her. "What is it?" he asked.

Akia smiled at him and took his hand in hers, squeezing gently. "It's all going to be fine," she said, trying to spot some kind of indication that her brother was suffering in silence in his eyes. But she, to her disappointment, could still not read those sapphire depths so similar, yet different, to her own. "I promise."

It was difficult to be encouraging and optimistic when she wanted to scream and shout in outrage at her own apathy towards it all.

"I know," he said, his face not changing one bit—it was like a stony mask of indifference.

Had she truly lost him, then?

A small spark of hope was lit in her chest, however, when Kerran squeezed her hand back and continued to hold it as he turned his attention back to the city passing by outside the carriage. For the first time in a month, Akia smiled. With some luck, Kerran would soon join her.

* * *

King Rhys was waiting for them in the castle courtyard, surrounded by guards and footmen. His mouth, nearly hidden by his white beard, curved in a broad smile as their escorts helped Akia and Kerran out of the carriage, studying his new wards closely. They both seemed well fed, despite their recent tragedy, though they looked pale and exhausted, which was no surprise after a week on the road and the...well, their recent tragedy, again. It had been years since he'd last seen Lord Kolvar and his children, but he instantly recognised them. There was so much of their father in their faces, apart from their eyes. Kolvar's eyes had been green, but his children had inherited Lady Elia's. They were almost gemstone-like in their intensity.

They did not have much luggage—most of their belongings had been lost in the fire. Rhys made a note to ensure they were both fitted with proper wardrobes as soon as possible.

As they approached him, he uncrossed his arms and tried to make himself appear as friendly and inviting as possible. As king, he was used to his subjects being intimidated by his tall stature and strong build, despite his advancing age, and the last thing he wanted was for the children to fear him.

"Lord and Lady Rinir, Welcome to Castle Town," he announced as the two came to a stop in front of him. "I have been looking forward to this day."

"Your Majesty," they both greeted him respectfully in a rehearsed manner (Miss Mari had probably taught them how as her last act as their governess), both preparing to kneel...which surprised and horrified Rhys equally as he stepped forward, placing what he hoped was comforting hands on their shoulders.

"There is no need for such formality," he said, smiling down at them. Their blank looks were disconcerting, but he assumed it was all due to the exhaustion they must have been feeling. "You are my wards, now. I cannot replace your father, but while you live under my roof you will be safe and protected, and I hope you will come to think of me as a guardian, and someone you can trust."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," young Lady Akia said, giving him a weak, but genuine smile, which warmed his chest considerably. "I..._we_...are immensely grateful for your kindness and generosity, and will conduct ourselves as befitting of your charges." She hesitated, clearly wanting to say something else, but not finding the courage or will. Rhys waited a few seconds, deciding not to rush the poor girl. When no more was forthcoming, he broadened his smile and nodded.

"It is my pleasure," he replied. "Your father was a friend to me, and this is the least I can do for all the services he and House Rinir have performed for me." He focused his attention on young Kerran. He met Rhys' gaze, but offered no words of gratitude or...really any words at all. He'd been warned that the youngest Rinir would probably not be particularly responsive. Ten (or was it eleven?) was a terrible age at which to lose a parent, much less one's _only _parent, and it would take time for him to recover. All the king could do in the meantime was to ensure he felt welcome and safe. "You look just like your father," he offered, hoping it was an acceptable thing to say.

Judging from the way Akia had to smother a grimace in the corner of his eye, it apparently wasn't. Nonverbally chastised, he straightened up, his smile growing nervous. He had never been good with children, especially not ones traumatised by a tragedy like this. He'd been at his wit's end in handling Zelda after her mother passed away, and she had been his _own_, for Goddesses' sake. He could only hope that he'd rise to the challenge and that he hadn't made a mistake in not passing the guardianship of Akia and Kerran to one of the other noble houses, in wanting to protect them from the greed of the nobles...

"My brother is tired, Your Grace," Akia spoke up, taking hold of Kerran's hand. "Conversation may not be his strongest suit at the moment."

Rhys nodded, grateful for the end to the awkward pause in the conversation (which none of his guards or servants saw fit to interrupt either, to his disappointment), and smiled once more. "Of course, of course. You have both had a tiring month, and a long journey. Standing out here is certainly not going to improve matters, haha. My servants will show you to your respective chambers and the baths. I am certain you will want to rest and recuperate. Supper is at six, but do not hesitate to ask if you want something to eat before that."

He had no idea how Kolvar had handled things at their home, and how much authority his children had had over the household servants, but he felt it necessary to make it clear anyway, just to be sure. They would undoubtedly be unsure of their position, and he wanted to help them feel at ease as quickly as possible.

Thanking him, Akia joined her brother in a respectful bow before letting themselves and their luggage be guided into the castle itself by the swarm of footmen and servants, a pair of armed guards following closely for protection. Rhys waited until he was practically alone before sighing in relief and walking inside the castle himself. He quickly retreated to his study, stepping onto the balcony that overlooked the castle's gardens. It was a beautiful, sunny day, despite the autumnal nip in the air. Somewhere in the gardens, he heard the sound of children laughing, which made him smile. It would be an interesting meeting, that night... He hoped Zelda would get along with the Rinir children. They would, after all, be living together for quite a while.

He felt a presence behind him, and he grunted. "I was wondering where you'd gotten off to. You're my bodyguard; you should have been there to protect me and introduce yourself."

"I will do that later," the blonde, nearly silver-haired woman said as she came to stand beside him on the balcony. Rhys glanced at her, noting that she was wearing her usual, dark-blue and purplish exoskeleton-like uniform, the symbol of her people (a red eye, much like her real ones) emblazoned on a white tabard covering her chest. Her skin was darker than his, but lighter than that of a Gerudo. Her hair was braided in a simple but delicate ponytail that reached her shoulder blades, a single lock having escaped its prison and nearly reaching her right eye, underneath which a red tattoo in the shape of a tear was imprinted on her cheek. A mark of mourning, he knew. "I had to watch from a distance, to assess them. And to stop myself laughing."

"You _know_ children are not my forte," Rhys said sourly, glaring at her. She did not seem bothered by it. It had lost its power long ago. "I could have used your help, actually. You're always so good with Zelda and Sheik..."

"That's because _I'm_ the one who has actually spent time with them," she replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

He scowled, looking back across the gardens. "Ruling a kingdom is demanding," he muttered. "I would gladly spend more time with my daughter if there wasn't so damn much to do all the time, and—"

"Peace, Rhys," she said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I meant no offence."

"I know," he said, taking a deep breath and looking back at her. "The peace talks are rapidly going nowhere—I find my mood growing worse with every meeting."

"I know," she said, mirroring his reply. "But those are thoughts for tomorrow." She blinked. "Apropos my son, where is—"

"I believe my daughter has kidnapped him for an impromptu frolic in the gardens," Rhys said, chuckling. "They should both be having their history lesson, but I think the excitement of the Rinirs' arrival allowed them to escape."

"Then I shall hunt them down," she said, preparing to climb the balcony railing and jump into the gardens, a dangerous glint in her eyes. Rhys' hand on hers made her pause.

"Go easy on them, Iana," he said, grinning. "After all, you said they _both_ deserved a break."

She grunted. "That doesn't mean they get to skip their lessons. By your leave, Your Grace."

"Of course," he said, watching the graceful Sheikah woman roll as she hit the ground and take off across the grassy field at an extraordinary speed, the dangerous glint in her eyes proving that she would have no mercy on Zelda or Sheik for their transgression.

"Not that you ever need it," he added in a mutter, turning his attention to the depressingly tall stack of paperwork he had to get through before the meeting with the Gerudo ambassador later that afternoon, wondering how much of it he could convincingly _accidentally_ burn in the fireplace and get away with it.

* * *

Far away to the west, in a mountain fortress carved out of the very rock itself, an old witch was dying. Her breaths came in short, wet gasps and rasps, and her mouth tasted of blood. A lung had definitely been punctured, and it was too late to heal from the numerous lacerations and stab wounds in her chest. She dragged herself across the stone floor, reaching feebly for the hand of her other half, squeezing it as tightly as she could, despite her failing strength.

She did not squeeze back. Her sister had passed minutes ago, her head separated from her shoulders by a vicious scimitar swing. Kotake had felt Koume's death as keenly as she had seen it, and it had been all the distraction their attackers had needed to finish the remaining witch off.

"I will join you soon, little sister," she croaked, feeling empty when there was no indignant shriek claiming that _she_ was the younger sister. "All is...lost..."

She breathed her last and closed her eyes, departing the mortal plane. The three remaining occupants sighing in relief, though their poses remained rigid.

"It's done," the leader said, looking to her companions and sheathing her scimitars. "Ayla, remove Kotake's head as well. We cannot take any chances on them coming back."

"Yes, Nabooru," the slightly younger woman replied, immediately going about her grisly task.

They'd been lucky, managing to ambush and kill the sisters before they could merge into that abomination of a creature. The plan had been anything but flawless, but so far so good. No one seemed to have noticed the commotion either. If they could burn the bodies without interruption, then all would be well.

Nabooru looked to their youngest conspirator. Aveil was barely twelve, but she'd handled herself like a seasoned warrior. She had not inflicted any mortal wounds, but she had definitely proved her worth by saving Ayla from an errant spell. Without a word, she took the bloody scimitar from the girl and nodded.

"Well done," she said, smiling. "Ayla and I will take care of this mess. You must go and distract the king in the meantime to ensure he does not start looking for them, even if you have to ask him for war stories. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course," Aveil said, nodding gravely and heading off immediately, closing the door firmly behind her.

Nabooru took a moment to lean against the wall, ignoring the wet sounds of Ayla beheading the remaining witch.

They'd done it. The poisonous influence the king's surrogate mothers had been removed once and for all, and with them, hopefully Ganondorf's sanity would return. There had finally been a real chance for peace with Hyrule, and Nabooru refused to allow the witches to reignite the war that had taken such a toll on their clan.

"It's done, Nabooru," Ayla said from somewhere to her left. "Bitch won't be walking around anytime soon."

"Let us move on, then," Nabooru said, turning towards the furnace the sisters used for Goddesses knew what in their laboratory. It burned much hotter than any of the fire pits in the fortress, and would ensure nothing remained of their grisly deed. "And hope Aveil can keep the king distracted long enough."

_To be continued…_

* * *

**I am quickly losing control of this thing, plot bunnies going wild here!**

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	4. IV

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
IV**

* * *

"Well...that could have gone better."

Iana wasn't sure if Rhys had _meant_ to make the understatement of the century, or if he, in his usual awkwardness when dealing with children, was simply trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. Most likely the latter, but she still had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at her king. For a man who'd been the ruler of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world for the better part of his life and was well into his middle age, he could be surprisingly inept in certain social situations, especially one such as this. Of course, her holding a struggling, whining child by the ear did probably not make him any more comfortable.

"Aptly put, Your Grace," she said, settling for the equal mix of sarcasm and sincerity Rhys found so amusing (except for when it was aimed at _him_, of course), nodding. Sheik tried to pull himself out of her grip, which only made her tighten her hold on his pointed ear, prompting another pained whine. "Settle down, _kare_," she told him. "I'd rather _not_ have to pull your ear off."

"Mother..." Sheik grumbled, his voice exasperated and pained. Had Iana not known her son particularly well, she'd have thought the latter genuine. But she knew for a fact that her son was a fine actor, and that her hold on him was nowhere near tight enough to inflict _that_ much pain. It was simply an...incentive for him to stay still. "_He_ started it!" he added.

This time, Iana _did_ roll her eyes, while Rhys simply seemed to clam up, glancing towards the door through which he'd sent the Rinir siblings mere minutes ago. The princess had been sent to her chambers, though Iana had a feeling she had simply eluded her escort and was standing outside the opposite door this minute, listening in. Or perhaps hunting down Kerran to give him a piece of her mind. Akia was probably doing that this minute, however, so Zelda would find herself quite superfluous for that particular lesson in sensitivity.

She glanced down at her son, noting that his braid had come undone, and a small bruise was forming next to his eye. Given that the youngest Rinir had walked away with a bloody (luckily not broken) nose, she considered their little fight a draw. No permanent injuries dealt, and merely bruised prides. Kerran was lucky Sheik had acted in anger rather than used his training to end the fight.

"_You_ struck first," she reminded him. "Unless someone comes at you with the intent to hurt you or the princess, you do _not_ use force. That is for simpletons and imbeciles, _not_ worthy of a Sheikah. How many times do I have to remind you of this?"

"He called me _blood-eye_," Sheik spat, looking up for the first time to meet her eyes.

In them, she saw the same pain she had seen the eyes of her sister, her husband, her father, and countless others of her clan who'd been on the receiving end of that particular slur. Seemingly innocuous, it cut far deeper than it should because of their history. If she was completely truthful, she would not have reacted all that well to being called that either, had she been in Sheik's position, but her son had so much potential, and allowing him to lose himself to simple words was not what she wanted for him.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw Rhys flinch, looking away. His father had been a frequent user of the term, she'd learned, and while Rhys loved his father dearly, his treatment of the Sheikah had been anything but respectable. Ever since Rhys assumed the throne, he had set out to mend the damaged relationship between the royal family and their Sheikah protectors, which was admirable...but all too late.

"What does _blood-eye_ mean to you?" she asked Sheik, kneeling down to look him in the, indeed, seemingly blood-coloured eyes that betrayed his heritage so easily, and releasing his ear. It saddened her that precious child had to be exposed to such prejudice, but if he learned to ignore it and focus on what was important, he would be so _strong_...

Sheik blinked, frowning. "Means we're killers...murderers..." he mumbled, eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Iana shook her head. "Sometimes we kill. That much is true. But only as a last resort, and we never, _never_ do so without reason. Sometimes, it will be necessary to end a life—but only when it serves a greater purpose, the common good of the people. We, the Sheikah, know this to be true. Our eyes symbolise that we are willing to do what is necessary, whether it is to preserve the peace or save _other_ lives."

She glanced towards Rhys, who remained silent.

"Do not let the word make you feel like a murderer, _kare_. With luck, you will never find yourself in a situation where you have to take someone's life. No, when someone calls you that, simply remind yourself that the colour of your eyes is a sign of your commitment to a purpose far greater than any of _them_ could ever imagine. Let it be a term that lends you strength, rather than one that weakens you. Ignore those who say it, for they do not know who we truly are, and what we do for them from the shadows." She smiled and kissed Sheik's forehead. "Or send them my way, and I shall set them straight."

She had never been one for words, and she had no idea if what she had just told her son would truly stick in his mind, but his tears seemed to have dried up, his upset mostly gone. She honestly hoped he would send some offenders to her. She always enjoyed intimidating bigots.

"Now, go wash up," she continued, pointing him towards the door. "At supper tonight, you will apologise to Lord Kerran, and make an effort to befriend him. Understood?"

"Mother, he doesn't—"

"Lord Kerran's father had some unsavoury opinions on our people," she interrupted him. "Kerran repeats his words, but most likely does not understand what they mean. Your mission is to show him that his father was wrong, and how the words are hurtful. Do you understand?"

"...yes, mother," Sheik replied, his tone none-too-happy, but he nodded resolutely.

"Off you go, then. Oh, and Sheik? The next time I find you and the princess skipping your lessons, I'll do more than tweak your ears."

"Yes, mother."

Rhys only relaxed once the door closed behind Sheik, shaking his head sadly. "It seems Kolvar failed to keep his more...objectionable opinions to himself. That is...disappointing. I believed him to be better than that."

Iana held her tongue. The things she could tell Rhys about the man he had considered a friend...

"Kerran was his pride and joy," she said instead. "It's only natural that he would want his son to take after him in every way. I stand by my words, though. Kerran probably did not truly understand his father's prejudice towards my kind, and is simply repeating them verbatim. With luck, spending time with Sheik will help him shed that particular part of his upbringing."

"Still, I am sorry your son has to face such idiocy even here, where he is meant to feel safe," Rhys said, frowning. "That is not what I want for him."

"I'm certain Zelda will come to his aid should it persist," Iana said with a smile. "Young Akia does not seem to have taken after her father, and is probably giving her brother a talking-to as we speak."

It was quite hard, Iana imagined, to take after a parent figure who considered you to be little more than an object to be sold off (that is, married) to the highest bidder. From what she'd learned of the girl's life so far, it was a wonder she was as well adjusted as she was. Iana made a note to speak to the girl in private—she was sure she'd learn quite a few interesting details that way.

"My son will not find himself without allies," she finished.

"Perhaps not," Rhys said, nodding. "I am hesitant to discipline the boy so soon in the wake of their tragedy, but I am not sure what else I can do. I will not have such enmity under my roof—not after all the damage it caused during my father's reign." He looked to her, pleading in his eyes. "Do you know...perhaps have any...?"

"I cannot punish him _for_ you, Your Grace," she said, crossing her arms. "He is _your_ ward, after all."

"I know, but I have never raised a boy before. I do not know where the limit goes, how it should be done."

"Do not raise a hand to him," Iana said immediately, fixing him with a stare. "Roughhousing between children that age is one thing, but I do not think an adult striking a child is in any way conducive to proper education. It teaches _fear_...and that has no place in such a relationship."

He nodded vigorously. "Naturally, naturally. I would never _dream_ of hitting a child. My father tried, and it certainly did not endear him to me."

"I suspect Kolvar did, as well," she added, watching as another layer of respect Rhys had for the late Lord of House Rinir was stripped away. It made her feel petty, but the tingle of pleasure she felt was too difficult to ignore. "One Mister Lobson was apparently in charge of _that_ particular bit."

"How do you know this?" Rhys asked.

"I have my ways."

It was the standard reply she had for the king whenever he asked a question to which she knew he would not enjoy the answer. They'd known each other for long enough to simply let it slide whenever she said it—she had yet to be wrong, after all. Of course, this information came from an unofficial and rather thorough interview with Miss Mari in preparation of Rhys assuming guardianship of the two Rinirs. Iana had a feeling she'd only scratched the _surface_ of the horror that was Kolvar Rinir's approach to parenting, but Mari had only been a governess—she had not known what happened behind the closed doors of the Rinir Mansion once her day was finished. The stories she _had_ been able to tell, however...

"Damn it, Kolvar," Rhys muttered, clenching his fists. "Well, if it's true, then it is up to me to show Kerran and Akia that they are safe from _that_ as well while they are under my roof. I shall simply have to find proper words to show my displeasure at Kerran's behaviour so far...all the while ensuring I do not upset him about his father...bloody hell, this is hard!"

Iana hid her smile. "Indeed, Your Grace," she agreed, "children are not easy."

"Can't you do it for me?" Rhys pleaded, looking ready to fall to his knees.

"Oh, I am far too busy ensuring your protection, Your Grace," she said haughtily. "Serious business, being a bodyguard. Always have to keep an eye out for threats. No, I'm afraid you'll have to discipline Lord Kerran yourself."

His look of defeat was nearly heart breaking, but she knew it was mostly an act. He knew fully well that this was his burden to bear...and that Iana would be laughing at him from behind the scenes for his ineptness. "What happened to the respect you once had for me?" he asked.

"It's still there, somewhere," Iana said, shrugging. "Deep down."

He groaned.

* * *

Sheik did his best not to wince as Zelda gently pressed the cold washcloth to his face, washing the dirt on his face and trying to give some comfort to the bruise by his eye. He'd already nearly cried in front of the king today—that was embarrassing enough. He realised in hindsight that he'd forgotten to bow and acknowledge Rhys before leaving the room, but he'd been too focused on what his mother had told him to remember.

"Are you okay?" the princess asked for the tenth time, looking him over.

"I'm fine, Zelly," he said, hissing as she pressed down on his bruise again, causing her to gasp.

"You're not _fine_, Sheiky," she insisted, glaring at him.

They were in the princess' chambers. She'd ambushed him on his way to his and his mother's chambers and dragged him back here, interrogating him all the while as she'd fussed over the tiny bruise. Kerran's fist hadn't even properly connected—a mere fluke, really. Nothing like the precise, calculated strikes Sheik and Zelda exchanged during training under Iana's watchful eye.

"I've never seen you so angry," she continued, pressing the washcloth to the brace. "Hold it there," she instructed.

"Sorry," he said, doing as he was told. "I couldn't stop myself..."

"I can't believe he called you that!" the princess exclaimed, pacing around her chambers, grumbling. "That ungrateful...stupid...ignorant..."

Sheik tuned her out, knowing it would be some time before the princess calmed down enough to continue the conversation. Instead, he thought back to the meeting with the Rinirs...

* * *

_"Zelda, Sheik, there is someone I would like you to meet," King Rhys said, smiling as he gestured towards the boy and girl standing beside him. "This is Akia and Kerran Rinir. They will be staying here with us from now on. I hope you will become fast friends."_

_Sheik and Zelda had already known about the Rinirs, of course. The king had told them about becoming the Rinir siblings' guardian two weeks earlier, and what had happened. They'd been quite excited about it, actually. Maybe they too would be taught how to fight by Iana, and they could play together, and, and, and..._

_Akia seemed nice, greeting them with a smile and a little bounce to her step. She was much older than them (three and a half years!), but Zelda was certain it wouldn't matter. Kerran, though, seemed more withdrawn. Sheik knew that he would be the youngest of them, but at least Kerran was closer to his age than Akia. It would be fun, having another boy to play with, and—_

_"You're a Sheikah," Kerran stated plainly after greeting Zelda with a bow._

_"Yes, I am," Sheik replied, used to people making such statements upon meeting him, and thinking nothing of it. They were rare now, after all, as his mother kept saying. Kerran had probably never met one before now._

_Blinking, the youngest Rinir turned to his sister. Akia seemed to know what was about to happen, and shook her head as he spoke: "Father said not to trust blood-eyes—they'll slit your throat without a second thought and laugh about it. They're killers."_

_Sheik didn't even notice as he stepped forward, his vision a red haze, and punched Kerran right in the nose. It was as if his body was under the control of someone else. All he'd been able to see when Kerran spoke was the saddened face of his mother. The look she'd worn one night when she thought he was sleeping—when she thought he wouldn't see. There'd been a ball—and the guests had not liked Iana being present. Sheik had heard their words, and taken in the stoic face of his mother as she let them call her such horrid things. Blood-eye was a frequent one. It had worn away at her, and after she'd gotten him to bed she'd let herself react. She didn't cry—she never did. But she was devastated nonetheless, and Sheik had seen it. He wouldn't let anyone use that word around her again. He wouldn't let anyone use that word around _him_!_

_Kerran fought back, and landed a hit next to Sheik's eye, his other hand ripping at Sheik's braid, nose bleeding freely._

_The scuffle lasted less than twenty seconds, but the guards quickly separated the two (and if Sheik suspected _he_ was handled a little rougher than Kerran...well, he wouldn't tell anyone. It would be showing weakness) while the king looked on in horror. Iana had revealed herself at that moment and whispered into the king's ear, at which point they were all separated...except Sheik, who'd been kept at his mother and the king's side, his ear gripped firmly by his mother._

_Silence had reigned in the parlour, and the king had looked embarrassed and horrified. Sheik's mother had simply looked disappointed. That, as usual, was worse than anything._

_"Well," the king had said, coughing nervously, "that could have gone better."_

* * *

"Zelly, stop pacing," he said. "It wasn't his fault."

"Not his fault?" Zelda said, pausing and staring at him as if he'd grown a second head, like the trolls they would slay while playing in the garden. "He called you a...a..._that_! No one calls you that! No one!"

He was happy, if a little embarrassed, that the princess was so willing to stick up for him, but sometimes her zeal could be a little...intimidating. Once Princess Zelda was determined, nothing could stop her. Still, what Iana had said about Kerran using his father's words without thinking seemed to make a little sense. After all, Kerran had said 'Father said...'

_Father_ _said._

Maybe Kerran really _was_ just repeating what he'd been told. That was unacceptable. Sheik's mother always told him to think for himself. Kerran should do so too!

"His father told him to say that about Sheikah," Sheik explained, taking Zelda's hand and squeezing it in a show of appreciation, which she, like always, turned into a tight hug. "I need to show him that he was wrong. Mother said so too." He paused. "I shouldn't have hit him."

"He deserved it," Zelda mumbled into his shoulder. "Hope you broke his nose."

He couldn't help but laugh at that.

* * *

Akia frowned as she dabbed at her little brother's nose, cleaning up the blood. She'd worried it was broken at first, but the bleeding itself had stopped quickly, and he didn't seem to be in any pain, which was relief. She could not help but think, however, that if he was in a little more pain, he deserved it. How could he possibly think that immediately insulting the little Sheikah boy was a good idea? They'd just arrived at the castle yesterday, and she was worried that the king would regret his decision and send them away if they did not make a good impression on the castle's residents, including his daughter.

She'd known that the princess had a friend in the young son of her father's bodyguard, and while that was the source of a pretty big scandal throughout the noble circles of Hyrule, she had never seen what was so horrible about it. Then again, she didn't share the incomprehensible hatred of Sheikah the nobles, as well as her father, showed towards the strange, dark-skinned, red-eyed people. As far as she knew, the greatest crime they had committed was to swear fealty to the royal family and serving as their bodyguards. Her father had told her tales of how awful they were, though, but the atrocities he'd described had sounded comically disproportionate and downright silly.

Kerran seemed to have eaten it all up, though…

She was still nowhere close to knowing how she felt about Lord Kolvar's death in general, but she knew _exactly_ how she felt about her and Kerran's treatment at his hands. She wondered how life would have been if her mother hadn't been killed by the Gerudo, if her father would have been...kinder. There was no way to know, of course, and daydreaming about such things was a waste of time. She focused on the matter at hand.

"What were you thinking?" she asked quietly, looking Kerran in the eye. "Sheik is the princess' friend. Insulting him isn't going to ingratiate us in anyone's eyes."

"He's a Sheikah," Kerran replied simply, looking confused at her reaction to the whole situation. "They're killers."

"Did _he _look like a killer to you?" she asked, glowering. Sure, the Sheikah sometimes served as assassins—she read that in a history book—but she highly doubted that the adorable little boy next to the princess had even _thought_ about killing someone, much less actually done it. His violent reaction towards being called a _blood-eye_ had surprised and even frightened her a little, but it was a hurtful word, and one he'd probably heard often... She would be wary around him in the future, certainly, but Kerran _had_ started it...

Kerran furrowed his brow. "He's a Sheikah," he repeated. "Father always said—"

"Father was wrong!" she exclaimed. "Like he was wrong about many things! Kerran, I know you looked up to him, but..."

She trailed off. She didn't have the words. She had no idea what she could say to convince Kerran that their father was anything but a hero. It was insidious, the way Kolvar had raised his son. Like with Akia, all the physical discipline had been left up to Mister Lobson. It hadn't worked on her—she knew fully well it was Kolvar who ordered it, but Kerran had never been able to see that Kolvar might as well have been beating Kerran himself. As it was, the youngest Rinir had turned his hatred towards Lobson instead of his father, who was simply The Authority—someone to obey, respect, and emulate.

It was so unfair! How was she supposed to deal with this? Kolvar had done his best to ruin his children it seemed, and while she wasn't entirely sure about herself, she knew he'd succeeded with Kerran. It was up to her to fix it...and she had no idea where to start! If only she could speak to the king...but would he even be interested in hearing her side of the story at this point, or would he immediately banish them?

Kerran hadn't said anything since her outburst, but he looked a bit...confused. This was the first time she'd outright spoken against their father's 'teachings'... Perhaps if she continued to do so, he would realise that there were other viewpoints than Kolvar's. If she could get him to apologise to Sheik...

Yes, that was how she would start. But first, she had to speak to the king.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Prejudice. Just say no, kids.**

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	5. V

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
V**

* * *

Thirty minutes into the ball, and Rhys felt like throttling the nobleman he was speaking to. It was one thing that the man was already quite sloshed, spilling wine onto his waistcoat and cravat as he gestured wildly in his recounting of a recent hunting trip (which had, to Rhys' satisfaction, not ended any prey being brought down...presumably because said nobleman extended his drunkenness to pretty much his base state), but the fact that he was getting a little overly familiar with his king.

Rhys had no problem connecting with the common man. The noble man, however, not so much. He always found them boring. Kolvar had been the only one entertaining enough to hold his attention for more than five minutes before Rhys' eyes slowly began to cross...of course, in the light of recent discoveries about the man's child-rearing capabilities, Rhys found himself feeling quite guilty whenever he thought fondly of his old friend.

He forced himself to abandon such thoughts immediately, trying desperately to focus on the drunken noble, but by then he'd tuned out approximately half the story. Good thing it wasn't particularly interesting, though he did give a half-hearted chuckle upon hearing about how the man had fallen out of his saddle because his horse had acted up...or simply been standing still while its rider had slowly slid sideways off his saddle. Either way was a pleasant image to conjure up.

"By then, of course, I had to admit defeat and return home without anything to present to my lady," the man finished, chuckling and finishing his goblet. "Ah, damn fine vintage, this, Your Grace," he announced. "I do believe I must acquire some more!"

"Of course, Lord Menros, do not let me keep you," Rhys said, gesturing towards the refreshments table, thanking the Goddesses for there not being a dining part to this particular ball. It was really just a celebration of Rhys' magnanimity in taking in the poor Rinir children and caring for them almost as his own. It hadn't been his idea (the very idea of it was awful), but his advisors, mostly led by Guilden, had insisted.

Shaking his head, Rhys focused on the rest of the guests. He hoped to spot any friendly faces or, barring that, someone with whom he could speak without feeling the need to stick his face into the fireplace to stop his brain from going numb. Unfortunately, most of the nobles with whom he _did_ get along with had either been kept from making an appearance, or had conveniently not been invited at all. He made a note to have words with Guilden regarding how much say the steward really had in these matters. Annoyed, he bit back a growl.

"Steady, Your Grace," Iana said, suddenly standing at his side. "It will not do for a king to attack his own subjects, no matter how dull or mind-numbingly stupid they are." She gave him a wry look.

"You read me like an open book," he said, sipping his own wine. "It's eerie, sometimes."

"You have an expressive face," she replied, scanning the party. She was dressed for the occasion, wearing a Sheikah outfit with certain modifications to make appear more military-like, so it would not stick too much out among the other guests. There were plenty of sigils and markings to show who and what she was...though anyone with half a brain would see it in her bearing from a distance, or, if dealing with a particularly thick noble, her eyes. Her sword, which had once belonged to her sister, Impa, hung on her belt, and Rhys knew from experience that she had at least three daggers hidden on her person, as well as at least one stiletto or two, presumably in her boots.

"And yours is like stone," he said. He had always thought of himself as someone who could easily read people...but not her. Never her. She'd been his protector for nearly ten years now, and not one time could he remember being able to discern what went on behind her eyes. Well...that wasn't entirely true. He'd seen the pain when Impa was killed. Her husband's death, too, must have left her devastated…

"I'll choose to interpret that as a compliment," she said. "Interesting guest list tonight. Guilden was in charge of it, I presume?"

"So it would seem," Rhys said with a nod. "He even invited Lord Layr and his eldest sons. Swear to me you will not leave me alone with him?"

"I shall make no such promise," she replied, her voice full of disdain said lord. He had always been a vocal opponent of the Sheikah and never wasted a good opportunity to speak ill of them in public. Knowing him, he was probably preaching to the few nobles here that were decidedly neutral, hoping to sway them against what he perceived to be a threat. All two of them. "I'd gladly arrange for an accident, though," she added.

"Best not," Rhys said, hoping no one heard that. "Rude and pompous arse that he is, he is quite useful in the day-to-day running of the city. But don't hesitate to...correct him, should he start flapping his big mouth again. Or direct him to me, and I shall give him a damn good trashing."

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards at that, but she hid it quickly. Rhys saw it, though, and he resisted the urge to grin triumphantly.

"I'll fetch your cane out of the cupboard myself, if you'll commit to that," she said. "The children?" she asked.

"In the other room with the nobles' spawn, I presume," Rhys replied, spotting a gaggle of noble women making their way towards him. They'd been on him like moths to a flame after his queen had passed, but he'd resisted their advances so far. "Meaning, naturally, that they are most likely roaming the castle and playing games where they shouldn't be. Ah, to be a child again..." He caught her slight frown, and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Sheik will be fine," he said. "He is more than capable of defending himself, physically or verbally, and Zelda is with him."

"Words still hurt, Your Grace, regardless of how thick one's armour is," she said, sliding away and abandoning Rhys to the noblewomen. Of course, she watched from a distance, wary of anyone she deemed a threat. Sometimes, though, her king needed a little torture to keep him in line, as well as a little exercise in the venerable art of diplomacy (which, in this case, was how to eloquently put across the point 'I am not bloody marrying you, now go away you vulture!' without offending anyone).

She knew Rhys meant well, but the incident with Kerran two weeks before had not convinced her that her son was ready to mingle with high society, much less their children who, in most cases, were even worse than their parents because they had no understanding of the concept of subtlety. She could only hope that Sheik would not physically assault the next snotty brat who wanted to draw attention to his eyes. She wouldn't be there to stop it this time.

* * *

"Come on!" Zelda grabbed Sheik's hand and dragged him through the weakly lit corridor and into an alcove behind an old suit of armour, hiding from the current seeker. "She won't find us here," she promised, pressing close to him.

"We're hardly invisible," Sheik noted, trying to stay out of the torchlight. "Here, move to the left."

Zelda did as she was told, knowing better than to argue with a Sheikah on the art of concealment...even though she _had_ done better than him on their last test. Iana had certainly taken longer to find her than Sheik, at least.

"Ready or not, here I come!" the seeker announced, having finished counting. Zelda couldn't remember her name, but she was one of the minor nobles' children, and therefore not nearly as stuffy as some of the other children who'd arrived that night. She hadn't even argued against including Sheik in their games, as some of the others had. The princess' firm stare had silenced those arguments quickly, though. Sheik had been embarrassed, as he usually was, but the smile on his face as they began to play properly had been worth it.

The two held their breaths as the girl came racing by, not even _looking_ at their hiding spot. About ten paces behind her, Akia followed. While the older noble children had declined to participate, the eldest Rinir had volunteered to be a chaperone of sorts to the younger's games, knowing that _someone_ needed to keep an eye on what was happening. Zelda quite liked Akia. She was older, but not snooty like other noble girls around her age. She was interested in the sword fighting lessons and other things Zelda and Sheik were taught by Iana, and Zelda found herself immensely enjoying having another girl closer to her own age to talk to.

Kerran, on the other hand, she did not like. After insulting Sheik he had given a token apology, which Sheik had accepted, but the two had not spoken one word to each other since. She knew that Sheik was keeping silent because he did not wish to incite further conflict between them, falling back on the false belief that Kerran was his better (which was a lie, damn it!), and Kerran...well, she didn't know why Kerran was keeping himself distant, but she was willing to bet he wasn't willing to lower himself to their level.

Sheik kept insisting it wasn't really Kerran's fault, that it was simply how he was raised, but Zelda didn't accept that excuse. He was distant with everyone, even Akia, and that bothered the princess as well. Akia clearly loved him, but he hardly showed her any sort of affection in return. He hadn't been like this before their father died, apparently, but why would close himself away like this?

Zelda didn't understand Kerran, and until she heard him give a genuine, heartfelt apology to Sheik, she wasn't going to bother trying to.

Akia paused, looking knowingly into the dark alcove, and flashed them both a smile as she continued to follow the seeker. _She_ never made a mention of Sheik's parentage or race. Why couldn't Kerran be more like her?

"Should we move?" Sheik asked once they were gone. "She might come back."

"No, we'll stay here as long as we can," Zelda replied. "Relocating is too risky in an open environment like this."

"...you're starting to sound like my mother," Sheik said accusingly.

"I certainly hope so," the princess said. "She's amazing."

Sheik didn't deign to respond to that, crouching to the floor to make himself more comfortable. "Shhh," he said suddenly. "Someone's coming."

The seeker was returning, her voice echoing through the hall. Someone else was approaching as well, though, their footsteps uncertain, as if their owner was unsure of where to go. Breaths were coming out in little gasps, indicated the owner having run for a while. The owner realised too late they were heading right for the seeker, however, and stopped only as they came into view of the alcove. It was Kerran.

He was still not fully familiar with the castle's layout, and frequently got lost. Playing hide and seek was probably not the best way to help him with this. Zelda got a small bit of pleasure from this fact, as well as the sight of his eyes widening as he realised he was just about to reveal himself fully to the seeker. And then Sheik ruined it all by hissing at him.

"Psst, over here," he whispered a little too loud for Zelda's liking.

Kerran hesitated, whether it was because he knew it was Sheik who was calling him over or if he was simply insecure in general Zelda did not know, but he eventually made his way over, squeezing into the alcove with her and Sheik.

"Thanks," he said as they ducked, just in time as the seeker came into view once more, now followed by several other children that she'd found, Akia trailing ten paces after once more. She noticed her brother huddling with Zelda and Sheik, which made her pause slightly, but her smile simply grew, and she went on.

"We've got to move," Sheik announced once he deemed it safe, emerging from the alcove and looking in the direction the seeker had gone. "She must've found a bunch of them in the music room—she won't be looking there again for a while. Come on!"

Zelda went to follow, but Kerran hesitated once more.

"Come on!" Sheik hissed once more, looking at him pointedly. If there was ever a figurative olive branch being extended, this was it. Kerran took it, following Sheik and Zelda closely as they ducked into the music room at the end of the hall.

Usually a brightly lit place thanks to the windows lining the wall, it was now dark and dreary. Mostly an open space save for the small stage at the end, there were nowhere else to hide but underneath the grand piano at the side of the stage. They dove underneath it and pulled slightly at the sheet to protect the piano from dust, obscuring the hiding spot a little further.

"And now we play the waiting game," Zelda said, remembering Iana saying that phrase once. Her voice had a bit more gravitas than her own, however, and she had to elbow Sheik in the side to stop him from snickering. She noticed then that she was sandwiched between Kerran and Sheik, which was probably fortunate in case one antagonised the other again. For a very long moment, though, no one said anything. Then:

"I'm...sorry."

Zelda and Sheik both turned their heads to look at Kerran, whose gaze was firmly fixed on the door at the end of the room.

"Really," he added.

Zelda kept her mouth shut. This wasn't really her business (despite how much she wanted to comment). Sheik looked very uncomfortable, but finally managed to nod. "Apology accepted," he said. Always too quick to forgive, in her opinion.

"Aki told me about...about your family," Kerran continued, paying no heed to the absurd moment to have this conversation. "I...I've lost my father, too...and my mother..."

"The King told us," Sheik said uncertainly. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Zelda added. "Me too."

Kerran finally looked at them, a small, tentative smile on his face. "I...I would like to start over, if we can," he said, mostly directing the statement at Sheik. "There's...a lot we can both learn from each other. A mutual ex-change of...ideas and knowledge."

Zelda had a feeling Akia had taught him that particular sentence based on how haltingly he recited it. But even if the words weren't his own, maybe this was a good thing? The apology had, to her surprise, sounded genuine. Maybe Kerran wasn't all bad after all...but that was up to Sheik to decide, of course.

"I'd like that," Sheik replied carefully. He was wary, just like Kerran. But Sheik _had_ said his mother had tasked him with befriending Kerran, and he always obeyed Iana. And Zelda would help. As the two boys extended and shook each other's hands, she laid hers on top of them, grinning.

"I'll help!" she announced cheerfully.

Kerran looked embarrassed, but nodded in a practiced manner. "Thank you, Your Grace."

The door opening and three boys entering the music room interrupted their conversation. They were a few years older, and Zelda recognised one of Lord Layr's sons. They were talking amongst themselves, cradling a wine bottle between them, and passing it around. Stolen from the ballroom, presumably. They didn't notice the three of them hiding under the piano, crowding an opposite corner, but there was no way to sneak out without being spotted.

She kept a hand on both boys' shoulders, silently telling them to stay put. Gather evidence, she thought. Present it to the authorities to punish the culprits later. Iana's words echoed through her head.

"...and no one's gotten their claws into him yet," the Layr son said, taking a deep draught from the bottle, words already slurring. "He's slippery."

"Mother says she'll have him by the end of the year," another one said, stealing the bottle. "Our house will be a ruling one. Always destined for greatness, we were."

"Hah, the king would rather marry a Zora than _your_ mother," the last boy said, guffawing and swaying on his feet. "I've seen her without powder—could do a passable impression of a stalfos, she could!"

"Oi, watch it," the second boy said, glaring at him. "At least my mother doesn't look like a damn Gerudo! Is yours even Hylian, truly?"

"Take that back, you inbred piece of—"

"Shut up, both you," the Layr boy, clearly the leader of their little group, gruffly said. "Doesn't matter who the old man marries. Who cares as long as it's not that blood-eyed harlot?"

Zelda felt Sheik tensing beside her, and she tightened her hold on his shoulder, knowing that starting a fight them was a bad idea, no matter how much he (or she, for that matter) wanted to give them a right beating for speaking of Iana in such a way. Kerran seemed to remain calm, though, which was probably for the best. As long as he didn't join in, that is...

"Everyone knows the king fucks her every night," the Layr boy continued. "Always had a fever for the shadows—father says so. Probably fucked her sister, too, and every other female before they got themselves killed. Good riddance—not fit to live, the freaks. Only favour the Gerudo ever did for us, but a damn good favour nonetheless."

There was no stopping Sheik this time. He shook off Zelda's hand and climbed out from under the piano, glaring at the older boys. "Don't you _dare_ speak of my family like that!" he shouted, his whole body shaking as he seemed to fight the desire to simply attack them all. "Take it back, or else!"

The nobles didn't seem impressed by the threat. If anything, they were amused. The Layr boy chuckled, shoving the wine bottle into one of the other's hands as he sidled forward, his hand resting on the handle of a decorative dagger in the belt of his finery. Decorative, but still quite sharp, or so Zelda imagined.

"Well, well, well," he said, whistling. "If it isn't the blood-eye runt. What, you ran off from your mummy? Bad idea. Something might..._happen_ to you, in a dark room like this. No one'd find you until it was too late." He gripped the handle of his knife a little tighter, as if to demonstrate that he had a weapon. "And your slut—I mean mummy—will be all alone...good thing she's got the king to give her another little half-breed, isn't it? Told you the king's your dad yet, has she? Fucking embarrassment to him, i bet, but he doesn't have the stones the send you away or put you down, as is only proper for gutter-trash like you."

That was too much for the princess, and she to revealed herself, standing next to Sheik, who looked close to tears. "I suggest you leave, or I shall call the guards and have them drag you before my father in chains," she said, hoping that their wits weren't too far gone to actually believe her. There weren't any guards in this part of the castle at this time of night—that was why they'd chosen this section for their game! "I imagine Lord Layr won't be happy with you then," she said, glaring directly at Layr's son.

"And the princess, too," the older boy cooed, revealing truly how drunk (and stupid) he was. "Had ourselves a little snuggle, did we? Learned directly from mummy and daddy, eh? Already looking to spawn little freaks?" He laughed loudly, as did the others. "By all means, get on with it, _Your Majesty_."

"Final warning," Zelda said, clenching her fist.

"For you, you mean," Layr said, drawing the knife fully now. "Can slice through the both of you like butter, this. Would be doing the kingdom a favour, really. End the line of shadow-lovers and put a _real_ bloodline on the throne. Father would be proud, and—agh!"

Kerran barrelled into him from the side, knocking him to the floor, already aiming a punch towards his face. Zelda hadn't even noticed him move.

There was no time to contemplate it, however, as the other two surged forward to help Layr...but by then, both she and Sheik and jumped into action.

She saw Sheik hurled himself forward and sweep the legs out from underneath the boy carrying the wine, which sent the bottle to the floor and causing it to break into a thousand pieces and soak the carpet.

The third boy, who seemingly didn't even consider Zelda a threat, simply ignored her and went to help Layr against Kerran. For his very bad judgement, Zelda resorted to 'an old favourite', as Iana called it, and kicked him firmly in the knackers (which was quite impressive given how restrictive her dress was). He crumpled with a high-pitched whine, curling in on himself.

Sheik had no trouble keeping his target down, having caught his fingers and bent them backwards just far enough to keep the noble writhing on the floor and completely at his mercy, while Kerran...well, he hadn't been taught how to fight and neutralise enemies by Iana, like Zelda and Sheik, so he relied on a more...brutish technique. Granted, it was rather efficient. He simply rained blow after blow down on the Layr boy until he was sobbing and begging him to stop.

"Grab the knife!" Kerran shouted over Layr's cries. Sheik did so, secreting the knife somewhere on his person.

"That's enough," Zelda said. "Let him up, Kerran." She watched the three nobles slowly stand up, utterly humiliated by three younger children.

"Fucking brats," the Layr boy muttered, nose bleeding. "I'll kill you!"

"I suggest you leave, instead," Zelda said. "Or you can explain why you threatened both me and Sheik to my father."

"Like he'll believe you!"

"He will certainly believe me," Akia said, standing in the doorway. Zelda didn't know how much the older girl had seen and heard, or how she'd opened the door so quietly, but she was certainly glad she was there. "Impartial witness, and all that. I suppose there's a case to be made for the three of you being drunk off your arses, but I doubt the king _or_ your parents will be happy about it. Instead, why don't we say the wine is the reason you were just bested by three eleven-year-olds, you walk away, and we never discuss this again, hm?" She moved aside, indicating the empty hallway. "Or perhaps I shall call the guards? My voice carries quite far, you see."

The boys looked ready to argue, but Layr waved them down. "Fine...we'll go...but don't even _think_ you're safe, Rinir!"

"Likewise," Akia replied as they filed out. Then she turned on her brother, Zelda and Sheik. "What were you thinking? They could have hurt you all!"

"Iana's teaching us how to fight," Zelda said proudly. "We could handle them easily."

"And I took his knife," Sheik added, drawing it.

"Give me that!" Akia hissed, taking it from him. "What do you think the king will say about this?"

Zelda winced. "Perhaps you...could not tell him?" she asked hopefully. Her father would be absolutely furious about this, and while she wasn't fond of the Layr boy or his friends, the whole situation would become even worse if it was brought to the attention of the adults.

Akia looked like she was about to say no, but then Sheik joined the princess, looking much like a puppy.

"Please?" he asked.

The eldest Rinir looked uncertain, and her resolve was brought down completely when Kerran stepped up between Zelda and Sheik, accidentally creating a triumvirate of weapons-grade adorable, and muttered, "Aki..."

Akia sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, but in exchange I want no arguments between the three of you, all right? You've defeated enemies together—that means you're comrades now. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Zelda replied, saluting like all her father's officers did. Sheik and Kerran did the same, and Zelda found herself admitting that Kerran wasn't bad at all. After all, he'd beaten up one of Lord Layr's sons...and because of insults directed towards her and Sheik. That wasn't grounds for complete forgiveness just yet, but it was a hell of a start.

Wondering how much trouble she was going to be in from now on, but unable to comment on it because her relief that her little brother was finally getting along with Sheik and the princess, Akia nodded and waved them out of the room, closing it gently behind her. When she turned, the three were gone, already running down the hallway in search of their other playmates. She followed, making a note to keep within earshot from now on, just in case the Layr boy and his friends decided to take their revenge already tonight. She didn't pay much heed to the threat she herself had received...but then...

...perhaps Miss Iana would be willing to teach her how to fight.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Eugh, Eren's family isn't particularly charming, that's for sure...**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	6. VI

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
VI**

* * *

Akia's first proper meeting with Iana was unexpected. She was standing on a walkway overlooking the training grounds, observing Zelda, Sheik, and Kerran as the castle guard's master-at-arms ran them through several drills on how to properly wield a sword. Zelda and Sheik were already advanced thanks to having been trained by professional soldiers from the moment they were old enough to actually hold one, and Kerran wasn't too far behind though the instructors Lord Kolvar had hired weren't quite on the same level as those at the castle.

It was remarkable how quickly the three of them had bonded, though Akia supposed there had been some truth to the made-up camaraderie-speech she'd given them after their fight with the Layr boy and his friends. Or perhaps some of the things she'd been telling Kerran over the last few weeks had finally taken root, and he'd made an effort in disregarding their father's words regarding the Sheikah. Still, she was surprised how one night had been all it took to get the three to train together—something they'd done separately up until now.

It made her smile...and the relief she felt at finally seeing her brother act as something other than a tiny version of their father finally allowed her some peace of mind...though now that she didn't have that to worry about anymore, she felt a small pang of jealousy...and a not very easily ignored itch in her right hand, wishing to grip the handle of a sword just like the three children down below.

"They're certainly getting along better now," a voice to her immediate right said, giving her a start. Iana, King Rhys' bodyguard and Sheik's mother, regarded her with an amused look. "My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you."

"No, that's all right," Akia said quickly, fighting down the urge to blush at her reaction. "I didn't hear you approach."

"Force of habit," Iana said, shrugging apologetically. "It's in our nature to be stealthy. I don't believe we've been properly introduced, for which I apologise, my lady." She bowed deeply. "My name is Iana, of the Sheikah. I am the King's personal bodyguard, and Protector of Princess Zelda. As the King's Wards, that protection now also extends to you and your brother, if you will accept it."

Unsure of herself, Akia gave what she hoped was a respectful nod. "It is I who should apologise..." she paused, unsure of how to address the woman in front of her. Iana looked amused once more, but came to her rescue after a few seconds of agonising silence.

"Please, call me Iana, my lady," she said, smiling. "Sheikah do not have titles outside our clan."

Akia nodded. "It is I who should apologise, Iana," she started over. "We have been in the same room many times, but I have not even had the decency to approach you."

Why hadn't she? True, the Sheikah woman was an intimidating sight—her bearing alone was enough to convince anyone that she was not to be trifled with—but she had never acted threateningly towards anyone in Akia's presence. And the eldest Rinir knew for a fact that Iana's eyes softened considerably whenever she looked at her son or the princess. Still, she had always remained at a respectable distance from King Rhys, and had never interacted with anyone but him. Still, Akia should have at least made more than eye contact with her, at least...for politeness' sake, if nothing else.

"Think nothing of it, my lady," Iana said, shaking her head. "I am not the most easily approachable person at the best of times, and you and your brother have had a tough period acclimatising to the castle, to say nothing of the recent tragedy you have both suffered." She dipped her head at that. "My condolences."

She accepted them, but stowed her feelings about it away. At this point, she still wasn't sure exactly how she felt about her father's death, but it was nowhere near the sadness she _should_ have been feeling. Whether that was a good thing or not, she did not know. "And, please, call me Akia," she said. If she was going to be on first name basis with someone, it was damn well going to go both ways.

"Then I shall, Akia," Iana said, smiling a little broader. She returned her attention to the training children in the yard, studying them with a practiced eye, clearly making notes to discuss with them later. "Would you mind terribly if I asked you what happened with Lord Layr's son at the party last night?" she said, not taking her eyes off Zelda and the others.

"Pardon?" Akia said, trying not to stiffen at the question. It was in vain, of course. She knew Iana would notice her being bothered, even with her eyes focused elsewhere. Her hesitant tone was a dead giveaway, for one.

"Before the party, my son and your brother did not get along very well," Iana said. "The princess did not particularly care for young Kerran either, as a result of their rather...turbulent first meeting. Today, however, they are training together and conversing in a polite and, dare I say it, friendly manner. Children can be surprising in their capriciousness, but enmity like that does not simply go away on its own over a single night. Something happened to make the three of them bond—and I can only assume it had something to do with the cowed manner in which the Layr boy and his friends acted for the rest of the night, as well as the nosebleed and bruises they did not hide very well."

Iana turned her head to look at Akia, smirking slightly. "Nothing gets past my sight," she said. "Especially not the pleased look you had on your face when you returned with the children later—a look I had not seen before then. Clearly, whatever happened between them all also involved you."

Akia did her best to meet the older woman's steely gaze, but Iana had years upon years of practice, and Akia felt her defences crumble...and finally nodded.

"They had a fight, the six of them," she admitted. "I didn't hear the whole conversation between them that started it, but there were...disparaging comments about...about your son, and threats of bodily violence. Kerran struck first, I believe, and Sheik and the Princess followed immediately after."

If she hadn't been standing so close, Akia would not have noticed the nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of Iana's eye, just above the tattooed tear on her cheek, at the mention of her son being insulted. But she was, and she did.

"I see," the Sheikah said, taking a deep breath. "Well, that certainly lessens my desire to discipline the three of them. Violence is never the answer, but children tend to act on emotion rather than logic..."

"Please don't yell at them," Akia said hurriedly, looking pleadingly at Iana. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone!"

Fat lot of good _that_ promise had been, she thought bitterly.

Iana regarded her for a minute, and finally nodded. "I do not want to risk the budding friendship between them," she mused. "And, frankly, that Layr boy needed to be taken down a peg or two, and what better way to have that happen than letting a bunch of kids four years younger than him beat him into submission?" She sighed. "Still, there needs to be some sort of reckoning for raising their hands against them...I suppose I shall simply have to increase the intensity of their training for a few weeks." An idea seemed to come to her at that moment. "Speaking of training," she said, turning back to Akia and looking her up and down closely, "I have yet to see you join the master-at-arm's sessions. Nor have you showed up for mine. Do you not wish to learn to fight?"

That was a question she'd been dreading. She desperately wanted to learn. Ever since the day she'd gone to the Rinir mansion armoury and picked up the various weapons stored there had she known that this was for _her_. She was meant to be a fighter, not just a noblewoman whose only purpose was to sit there and look pretty and have children. No, she wanted to be a _warrior_. Her father had refused to let her, though. Lobson had been busy the nights she was caught handling daggers or borrowing the sword of a household guard. Kerran had practically been _forced_ into training, while she wasn't even allowed to watch.

Never had a question been more deserving of a resounding 'Yes!', but she found herself shuffling her feet instead, feeling much younger than she really was. She wanted to learn...but she couldn't simply jump into those sessions. She didn't know anything about fighting at all, having been kept away from it. She knew nothing about stance, nothing about balance... It'd simply end in embarrassment for her and anger for the poor instructor who'd be at their wit's end after trying to teach her.

Iana did not comment, merely looked at her for confirmation, and it was only because of the Sheikah's patience that Akia was finally able to mutter something of a reply.

"I want to learn..." she mumbled. "...but I don't know anything about it..."

Iana nodded slowly. "And you're afraid you'll embarrass yourself or anger your teacher," she finished. At Akia's despondent nod, she rolled her eyes. "Come with me," she said, and began walking away. Akia followed a few seconds after, confused.

Iana led her through the castle, past the royal bedchambers and those belonging to Akia and Kerran, and into the small series of rooms occupied by Iana and Sheik. Here, the decor was different. Instead of the purple and gold of the royal family, there was the red, blue, and white of the Sheikah. Their symbols were everywhere. They passed between two doors that must have led into their bedchambers, and entered a larger door at the end of the hall. The room within was large and round, and Akia's mental map of the castle told her they were now in one of the corner turrets of the main keep. A single window illuminated it. Soft carpets hung on the walls to dampen noise, the reason for which Akia noticed just by the door. A rack containing just about every bladed kind of weapon she had heard about stood there.

Iana walked to the centre of the room, shedding her overcoat to reveal a sleeveless, white shirt beneath, along with the numerous daggers and knives strapped to various places on her person. Looking to Akia, she frowned. "Well, don't just stand there. Close the door and come here." Akia did as she was told. "Might want to roll up those sleeves, as well," Iana instructed. "Your shoes are fine for now, but I would recommend a sturdy pair of boots in the future."

"Future? What are you talking about?" Akia asked as Iana began rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms while walking towards the weapons rack.

"Your training, of course," Iana said, letting her hands run along the handles. She seemed to find what she was looking for, withdrawing a medium-sized sword with a broad blade. "Here," she said, throwing it at Akia, barely giving her enough time to react and catch it. It was quite heavy, and Akia was surprised she hadn't simply dropped it on her foot. The weight was...comforting, though.

"My training?" she asked, feeling a little dense. Surely Iana wasn't saying...?

"I should have realised sooner," Iana said, drawing a similarly sized sword of her own from the rack and approaching Akia. "I could see that you were itching to join in, but I didn't understand why you didn't. I apologise. Yes, simply jumping into the lessons of those three would be a little daunting. Therefore, I will be teaching you the basics until you're ready to join the others." She paused. "That is...if you do not object to being taught by a Sheikah?"

"O-Of course not!" Akia exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously.

Iana grinned. "Good to hear. This room is off-limits for everyone but myself and my son, though we make exceptions for those we deem worthy. You need not fear anyone observing us."

"I don't know anything, though," Akia reminded her, secretly thrilled that not only would she learn to fight, but would be taught by _Iana_! Regardless of anyone's feelings on the mysterious, red-eyed shadow-dwellers, one could never doubt their abilities in the martial arts. And while the older woman still scared her a little, she was not nearly as frightening now, especially not with the excitement coursing through Akia. "I'll make a lot of mistakes."

"And I will show you how _not_ to make them," Iana said. "Just like I have with the princess and my son. You are far from my first student."

"Th-Thank you," Akia said, still not quite believing it. Iana had no reason or obligation to do this, after all. She was certain the king could have arranged for a less advanced teacher, or something...

"We girls have to stick together," Iana said, grinning wider. "But once I'm done with you, you will _not_ be thanking me. You will be sore, there will be bruises, and you'll be struggling for breath. And that is how it's supposed to be. After all, if it's not work, it's not working." She fell into a stance, one foot in front of the other. "Now," she said, "the most important thing to consider is your _stance_..."

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Iana is fun to write!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	7. VII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
VII**

* * *

It was with no small amount of trepidation Nabooru entered the king's chambers. At the very heart of the fortress, Ganondorf's chambers were the most heavily protected, but at the moment the halls were empty—the guards driven away by his terrifying rage. Two weeks had passed since the disappearance of Kotake and Koume, and not a single moment of peace had been had since he had discovered that his mothers were gone. No one had been hurt, but there had been a few close calls. Aveil, in particular, had been a target ever since he'd begun to suspect she_'_d been distracting him on the night of their disappearance.

Which she _had_, on Nabooru's orders, but no one needed to know that.

The king's rage had taken its toll on his furniture and decor. His desk was a pile of splinters, along with his chair, and the tapestries that decorated his walls were in tatters. His bed had been torn apart, and various vases and dishes littered the floor. Or, their _remains_, at least. It was a wonder he hadn't used any of his magic...but she suspected his anger been a primal thing too unfocused for him to even use his powers...

And his appearance now was a far cry from the enraged whirlwind of fury he had been for fourteen days straight. Now, he simply sat in the middle of the room, in a meditative pose. His armour was in a haphazardly slung pile in the corner, his sword nowhere to be seen. He was wearing nothing but trousers, his finely toned upper body exposed to the slight cold of the fortress, and his feet were bare. He had thick bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept for months...but he looked positively tranquil where he sat.

"You sent for my, my king?" Nabooru said, deciding not to show fear. He had always respected that.

Ganondorf took a deep breath before opening his eyes. Golden orbs focused on her, a slight frown on his lips.

"They're dead, aren't they?" he asked.

"My lord?" Nabooru asked, playing dumb. She had no idea how much he knew, after all.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes for several seconds before opening them once more. Now he looked absolutely exhausted, like he was about to collapse at any second. "I'd rather not play this game today, if you don't mind," he said. "Just tell me the truth, Nabooru. I can no longer feel their presence in this fortress, nor can I find a trace of them in the surrounding lands. They would not simply abandon us like this...or me."

She shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps they decided to take a vacation?" she suggested, knowing she was playing a dangerous game.

He gave her a look. "That humour might get your head cut off if you do not answer me this instant," he warned. "Though, if it will help loosen your tongue, I already know why you did it."

"And why, hypothetically, would I do what?" she asked.

"They did something to me," he said, frowning. "Clouded my mind. Drove me to make...ill-advised decisions. War-provoking decisions. Decisions that have gotten more of our people killed than I can even count." He glared at her. "Sound familiar?"

So, he really knew. "They had to be removed," she said, her tone serious. She knew when not to joke around. "We were losing the war, but they were pushing for you to prolong it, to break the truce. Our people would not have survived another campaign. I tried to warn you, but their influence had become too great—you would not listen."

"You killed my mothers," he stated.

"To protect my brother," she countered. "My mothers, my sisters, my daughters. _Your_ sisters, _your_ daughters. I could not stand by and watch as more of them were killed over a territorial dispute. Five years of continuous bloodshed, followed by ten years of taking pot-shots at each other, slowly bleeding each side... It was unacceptable. I did it alone, and I take full responsibility."

Her king gave her a long, calculating look. Even though she knew there was a good chance she'd be executed for treason and murder, she was thrilled to see the clarity having returned to his eyes. For too long they had been dulled by the haze the two witches had conjured around him. How long had it been since she had considered the man she'd loved as a brother dead? Years, at this point...but here he was, free from Kotake and Koume's poison...

_Finally_...

"Alone, hm?" he said, voice doubting. "Somehow, I find it hard to believe you could defeat those two all on your own."

"I caught them by surprise," she said. "They'd been drinking, celebrating their own genius. They never saw me coming."

"Where?"

"In their laboratory. I waited for them there."

"Their...remains?"

"Burned in their own furnace. Nothing but ashes was left."

"I see..."

He was quiet for a long moment after that. When he finally stood, Nabooru expected him to kill her with his bare hands, but he simply assumed a regal pose, hands folded behind his back. "I should have you executed for treason," he said. "Regardless of their actions these past few years, they were still Gerudo, and _my_ mothers. They raised me and taught me everything I know about magic, politics, and ruling."

Nabooru nodded, resigning herself to her fate. She'd expected this, after all. She'd face it gladly, knowing she had done the right thing regardless of her own outcome in the grand scheme of it all.

"However," Ganondorf continued, causing her to look up, "seeing as they themselves have been...influencing me in ways that nearly led our people to ruin, I cannot fault you for acting in the manner you did, even if it required their murder. Your actions may have saved us all, and for that I thank you. It will take some time before I can fully trust you again, but know that one day I will fully be able to appreciate what you have done."

This was far better than she had expected, and it left her flummoxed, her mouth opening and closing for a few moments. "I...you won't have me executed?" she asked.

He shook his head. "We have lost far too many people already. If I can help it, I will not contribute to that number ever again." He turned his attention to his ruined desk. "I don't even _remember_ doing that," he said, frowning. "Would you be so kind as to fetch me paper and ink? I have a series of letters to write. There will not be a true peace for a long while, but I suppose the first thing to do would be to withdraw our forces from occupied Hyrulian territory. That will be a stepping-stone to a real truce, and then peace. I can only hope King Rhys isn't too similar to his father..."

"I'm certain he is as tired of the fighting as we are," Nabooru said, hoping he still trusted her enough to accept her council. "He will be wary of tricks, though."

"Then we need to prove that we are genuine," Ganondorf said. He shook his head. "I haven't felt clear-headed in years. It all seems so...obvious, now." He chuckled. "Did you know, they had me thinking I should conquer the world? Said it was time to claim the Triforce and use its power to have them all bend the knee to my will." He laughed out loud at that. "Such idiocy...I can't believe I did not see their madness from the beginning."

On that, Nabooru agreed.

* * *

*****TWO YEARS LATER*****

* * *

The rain soaked through Iana's cloak and left her shivering as she traversed the streets of Castle Town, sticking to the narrow alleys and backstreets to avoid being seen. Her mission was secret, after all. She hissed quietly to herself as the rough fabric rubbed against the wound on her shoulder, undoubtedly opening it more and depositing nice little fibres to aid an infection. The other cuts she'd suffered weren't to be joked with either, but this one in particular would need stitching, she knew. She wanted to knock her head into the nearest rain gutter for her carelessness. Her sister would have had a field day with it, not missing an opportunity to lecture her on the importance of always being aware on the battlefield.

She missed that, now. Impa had been a strict and intimidating clan leader, but only because she was so terrified of losing the few people she had left. It was that fear which had left her vulnerable to that Gerudo's spear in the first place, her need to ensure her clansmen—her family—were all right and had survived the crash. It had been quick and relatively painless, but Iana would never forget the sight of her older sister bleeding out on the muddy road, her last breath used to inquire about Iana's safety. Not the king's. Iana's.

She'd lost control that night. Hadn't left a single Gerudo alive and—to her later shame—ensured that the last one's passing had been anything but quick. She had never been reprimanded for it, probably because the mantle of leadership had been passed to her...or because they, too, had wanted to see the Gerudo suffer for what they had done.

The ambush should never have taken place. It was far too coordinated and reinforced to have been a fluke. Someone had leaked their travel route. Her investigation had taken almost ten years, but...she'd gotten the one responsible, in the end.

She shook her head, focusing on the task at hand. Slipping into the lane of memories like that was an all-too-familiar danger, and left her open to attack or being followed. No one was, luckily. She had hardly been on a high-profile mission, and the weather was much too foul for anyone to bother trailing her. And even if they did, she'd leave them behind easily. She knew the city better than anyone else, having studied the maps extensively.

The castle's towers and turrets came into view in the distance, and soon enough she was following the eastern wall to the small side-entrance meant for food deliveries. This was the most heavily guarded point save for the king's chambers, and Iana herself inspected it on an irregular basis to keep the men and women guarding it from becoming complacent. If even one enemy managed to enter through this door, they could cause much havoc before the rest of the garrison realised what was happening. The architect who had designed this place had lived in a time during which warfare pretty much only happened outside one's gates, and sieges were just that—extended battles where the measure of success was whether or not one's tally of casualties was lower than that of the enemy. There was no surreptitiousness back then. Now, though...

She knocked on the door, and the slit opened, a face peering out from the other side. "Who goes there?" the guard demanded, his voice meant to be intimidating, but coming out as little more than squeak as he caught side of Iana halfway through the words. She lowered her hood, just to be certain he could see her face, knowing that at least two crossbows were aimed at her from hidden slits in the wall above her.

She was a frightening sight, she knew. The job had been messy, and her face was covered in caked blood, her hair a mess plastered to her head (someone had cut through her braid), and her lower lip split on the left side. Still, she knew she'd be recognised.

"Open the door, will you?" she asked, foregoing the usual password back-and-forth. She was in no mood to play games, though she'd probably kick herself for breaching protocol later. She was just so damn _tired_... "I have a headache and I'd rather not yell at you."

The eyes regarded her carefully once more, presumably to ensure there was no funny business and it truly _was_ her standing there—which secretly made her proud of the man—before closing the viewing slit, and the sound of the heavy bolts on the other side being unlocked clicked in the night. The door swung open, and she quickly stepped inside. She looked at the man on guard, nodding.

"Corporal Ket," she said, noticing his stiffening pose as he fought the urge to salute (she refused to let them). "How is your boy?" she asked.

"Much better, mistress, thank you," he replied, using the one honorific she would allow, and only in military and official circumstances, to address her. "Thomas' fever is gone, and the cough is subsiding as well. Thank you so much for the medicine."

She smiled, ignoring the pain in her lip. "That is a good to hear, but do not thank me. Thank the king's physician. It was she who prepared it—I was merely the courier."

"It was you who brought it to her attention, mistress," he countered. "One does not bother the king's physician with an unknown soldier's problems, and—"

"The health of a child is never an issue to ignore, regardless of their status," Iana said, interrupting him. Ket's son was almost ten. Regardless of what happened to him later, Iana would see him make it to eleven at the very least. "I know the pain and fear of almost losing a child, corporal. Do not hesitate to let me know if there are further complications. Good night."

"Y-Yes, mistress," he replied, practically bowing. "Thank you, and good night!"

Iana smiled a little more as she walked away. She'd trained that one well. He hadn't even mentioned her wounds and dishevelled state. She trudged her way up the garden path and in through the patio entrance, ending up in the main hall. She was glad it was midnight and that only the night guards could see her in such a state. To their credit, there were only double takes as she passed them, as opposed to dropping jaws and gasps, as there had been among the rookies when they first came to guard the castle. Allowing her feet to act autonomously, she gathered her thoughts into the verbal report she intended to give, and quickly found herself outside the king's study. The guards gave her respectful nods as she knocked on the door.

"Enter," Rhys' voice, muffled by the door, said.

The king was standing behind his desk, obviously having paced for an hour or so, looking indignant in his night robes. Upon spotting her, however, that look was replaced by one of worry, and he made to approach her.

"I am fine, I assure you," she said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Just superficial cuts."

"Your hair..." Rhys said, trailing off.

"Someone cut the braid—it can be salvaged, I am sure," she said, reassuring him. "Now, sit down, and I will report."

"Report?" Rhys asked.

"On Ronan and his gang," she deadpanned. "The very reason I was outside tonight? The reason why smiling is going to hurt for a few days? The problem I have taken care of?"

"I didn't bloody ask you to take care of it!" Rhys exclaimed, his knuckles turning white. "It's only because I was told you were leaving the castle I even knew you were out!"

"Abras should have kept his mouth shut," she said, cursing the corporal's name. "You weren't supposed to know."

"And this," Rhys said, gesturing to her haggard appearance, "wouldn't have tipped me off?"

"My intelligence on Ronan was...lacking. That, or he knew I was coming," she said, shrugging. "Had two dozen more guards than I was prepared for. I handled it." She patted Kazuya's handle, the blade having served her well this night. "I can happily tell you that he, nor his Butcher Boys will be a problem anymore. A bit of clean-up will be necessary, but I left the landlord more than enough rupees to pay for _that_."

Rhys sighed. "They _were_ becoming a problem," he admitted. "But still, I don't like it when you just run off and do this without at least _telling_ me."

"You would try to stop me," she pointed out, laying a careful emphasis on 'try'.

"To prevent you getting hurt. To prevent _this_!" he said, gesturing towards her again. "Iana, do you have any idea how worried I get whenever you're away?"

She gave a scathing look. "I am your blade and shield," she said. "I am simply doing my job and being proactive. You were going to order me to take down Ronan sooner or later anyway."

"With the support of at least one company of guards!" the king thundered. "Not everything has to be handled with cloak and dagger!"

"Ronan would have gone underground the second the guards marched down his streets," Iana said calmly, letting her eyes do most of the emoting. "Some jobs are best done with a sledgehammer, true, but this one required a scalpel. If you're worried about this being traced back to you, don't worry, I left enough evidence of another gang to have people think it was merely a showdown."

Rhys seemed to deflate, sinking into his chair. "I don't care about my reputation—"

"You should."

"Well, I don't! Goddesses, Iana, one of these days you will bite off more than you can chew and never return! We'd never know what happened to you! Or worse, they'll send me your head!" He glared at the desktop in front of him, clearly wishing he had something to tear apart. "How would Sheik react to you simply disappearing, do you think?" he asked.

She took a breath. It would not do to become upset. "Sheik is more than aware of what we are," she said. "He knows what I do on the nights I leave the castle. He would know what had happened to me, and would react the way I have trained him to. He would know his job."

The king looked horrified. "Is...do you really think whether or not I'd have a protector is what I would worry about upon your de...disappearance?"

She was in a foul mood, and she knew it was unfair to direct it towards Rhys, but a small part of her enjoyed it a bit as well. The king rarely had a chance to blow off steam properly these days. It did not do wonders for her rapidly growing headache, but one could not have it all. However, What made her choose what to say next, she'd never know. It was...inappropriate and uncalled for.

"That was what your father did when my mother died," she said, immediately regretting her words.

The fight immediately left him at that...and somehow, it was even worse than if he'd exploded.

"I...yes, you're right," he said, shaking his head. "He did do that, didn't he? Not even a second of mourning... _You_ would be, though," he said, looking her directly in the eyes with an intensity she'd rarely seen. "I'd have all of Hyrule mourn for you. Mandatorily." He stood up and walked around his desk, coming to stand directly in front of her. He'd always been taller... "You're my friend, Iana. Sometimes, it feels like you're the only one I have. The only person I trust implicitly. I wish you would trust me enough to at least let me know when you went off like this, but...clearly this is more one-sided than I believed." He reached out and brushed her hair out of her face, grimacing at a blooming bruise on her cheek. Then he noticed the shoulder wound, and his eyes widened. "You're still bleeding. I'll call the doctor—"

"There is no need to worry Doctor Kaura over a trifle such as this," she said, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from hurling open his study door and bellowing for his physician. That would be...unpleasant for everyone, especially _him_. "I will take care of it myself. If it will calm you, however, I will go see her in the morning. Just as a precaution."

It wasn't that she doubted the Terminan physician. Not at all. Kaura was the best damn doctor Iana had ever met. But she was far from a morning person—and waking her in the middle of the night like this would leave a nasty trail of destruction.

"Do you swear to me that you will?" Rhys asked dubiously.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Iana said, dutifully making the gestures, which, unfortunately, revealed to her how bloody her hands were. Good thing it had dried so it didn't leave stains on Rhys' robes...

If he noticed her hands, he did not comment. Instead, he nodded and gave her a weak smile. "Very well. I _will_ be checking in with her to ensure you do meet with her, though." He was standing exceptionally close, and he finally seemed to notice, clearing his throat and stepping away. "Er...good job on the Butcher Boys," he said, apparently trying to dislodge something with his coughs. "Well done indeed. You're probably tired. You should get some sleep."

"And you, Your Grace," she replied smoothly, feeling guilty for keeping him up. It always did, when she went on a private excursion. Corporal Abras would get _such_ a hiding...

They bid each other good night, and Iana made sure Rhys actually entered his bedchambers before she headed for the quarters belonging to her and Sheik, passing by Kerran and Akia's on the way. She entered her chambers and immediately disrobed, leaving herself in her sleeveless undershirt before heading for the washbasin. Her suspicions of how well Rhys knew her were confirmed when the water she found was warm, a bottle of pure alcohol and several bandages, a needle and thread sitting beside it. He knew she would not suffer any servants to enter her chambers, so the foolish man had probably taken them here himself, and not long before she returned.

It made her smile, but she quickly stifled it as she went about cleaning herself up. The blood on her hands, arms and face was quickly washed away. She could do little about her split lip apart from disinfecting it (which hurt like a bastard!), along with the smaller cuts, which she covered with the bandages.

Her shoulder wound, however, proved a challenge. No matter what angle she tried, she could not reach it or clean it properly, much less stitch it shut. She was about to give up when her door opened. She recognised the footsteps and the confident manner in which the intruder entered—which was lucky, or they would have been dead.

"Mother," Sheik said, looking at her with concern. "What happened?"

Iana studied her son. At twelve, she could already see that Sheik would not become a big man like his father. He had inherited the sinewy, lithe physique of his mother and aunt. It would not serve him in a battle of strength, but he was already developing the agility, speed and wits to counter that particular disadvantage. She would have to teach him every trick she knew, to ensure he knew how to survive in a world that hated him. He blinked tiredly at his mother's scrutiny, obviously having been awoken by her arrival. She never could manage to sneak past his chambers these days... His hair was undone, sticking out at odd angles here and there, reaching his shoulders in a tangled mess.

"I woke you," she said simply. "My apologies."

He snorted and closed the door behind him. "Hardly the thing to say, looking like that," he said, looking at the wound. "Butcher Boys?"

"You're far too clever for your own good," she said warningly. "Go back to sleep, _kare_."

"No," he said disobediently and stepped up to her, taking the bottle of alcohol and the swab she was trying to clean the wound with. "You can't do it on your own," he insisted when she opened her mouth to protest. "And you sure as hell can't sew it."

"Don't swear, _kare_," she said, flicking his nose.

"Apologies, mother," he said, grinning. "Turn, please."

She did as she was told, allowing her son to gently clean the wound and make sure there was nothing in it to cause an infection. As he reached for the needle and thread, she muttered, "Do you even _know_ how to sew?"

He looked mildly insulted. "Between you, Zelda, and Doctor Kaura, how can I _not_?"

She conceded to that. It was hard for him to fight against _that_ trio.

"Besides, it's _Link_ who struggles with that sort of precision," he continued.

"Link?" Iana asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sheik flushed, looking away from his attempt at threading the needle. "We...we made up a nickname for Kerran today," he admitted. "Or, Zelda did, at least."

"I see," Iana said, maintaining her expression. "_Link_, though?"

"I don't know, mother," he said, beginning the grisly work of stitching her up. It was a pain Iana was used to, and she barely even hissed, even when he hit particularly painful spots. "Zelda said she had heard herself calling him that in a dream. It...suits him, strangely enough."

"You will hear no argument from me," Iana said, familiar with the young princess' dreams. Many of them seemed so vivid, and some even predicted events to an eerily accurate degree. Iana had chalked the first time up to coincidence. The second, not so. These days, she was convinced Zelda was a seer or sage of some kind, blessed by the Goddesses, but Rhys didn't agree, so certain it was all chance. She was wearing him down, though, for every dream that proved true. She hadn't had any in a long while, though...and this newest one was probably just that—a dream. Still...Link... She could imagine herself calling the youngest Rinir that. "Remember to call him by his proper name in public, though," she reminded her son. "He is a lord, remember."

"I know, mother," he replied dutifully. "I shall not have ideas above my station."

She gritted her teeth as he tied off the thread and cleaned the area once more. "That is not what I meant. You have to know how to act in public lest someone believe you are influencing the poor, innocent lordlings, for your own protection."

"I know, mother," he said. "I was teasing." He went for the bandages, but she batted his hand away. Some things she could do for herself, and it was traumatising enough for the boy to sew up his own mother if he wasn't going to see her naked as well.

"I will handle that," she told him. "And I will see Kaura in the morning."

"Good luck," he said with another undignified snort, knowing how the physician liked to discipline those who got themselves hurt like this.

"I just hope your sewing skills are as good as you claim, _kare_, or she will certainly want to have words with _you_ as well." His face grew pale at that prospect, and allowed herself a chuckle. "Do not worry, I can already tell she will be satisfied with the job you've done."

Blushing at the praise, Sheik nodded. "Thank you, mother."

"Now, unless you wish to see your dear old mama in the buff, I suggest you vacate the premises and go back to sleep, _kare_. It's another long day tomorrow."

"Yes, mother," Sheik said, giving another horrified look at _that_ nightmarish possibility. "Good night."

"Good night, _kare_," she said, kissing his forehead and sending him back to bed. Removing her shirt and bindings, she made an attempt at tying up the stitched wound with a bandage, failing only a little, and finally managed to get herself into bed as well, almost immediately falling asleep from exhaustion.

One last thought passed through her mind before oblivion claimed her.

_Link...suits him..._

She had no idea why, though.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Keep coming up with ideas for this...help, I am losing control!**

**And of COURSE Kaura managed to worm herself into this story too!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	8. VIII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
VIII**

* * *

She'd been putting it off all morning, but at around noon she realised that there was no avoiding it. The mere thought was unsettling, and her stomach began roiling as she ordered the drills to end, and for the guard recruits to return to their other duties. The children were in the middle of their geography lessons at the moment, so she had no excuse to hide behind there, either. Rhys was in a council meeting, surrounded by his personal guard, so occupying herself there was right out. No, it had to happen, and it had to happen now. She nodded to the sergeant and stalked off, heading back inside the castle. Truth be told, she'd rather face a thousand Gerudo than this, but she _had _sworn she would.

Stupid Rhys and his puppy eyes. Even at their age, the king knew exactly how to push her buttons to get, if not all, then at least _most_ of the things he wanted.

She found Doctor Kaura's office a few minutes later, and she was ashamed to find herself actually drawing a deep breath before knocking on the door. There was a muffled call from within:

"Enter!"

Kaura was sitting behind her desk, apparently consulting a great tome of medical knowledge that occupied most of the desk's surface. The text was miniscule, and Iana couldn't read it upside down, but there were richly detailed illustrations as well, and she could see that the physician was currently studying the liver, in all its splendour. The purple-haired (was it dyed?) woman looked up, bespectacled eyes meeting Iana's, a small frown tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Mistress Iana," she said, nodding. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had certainly noticed the multitude of already healing cuts, as well as the blossoming bruise on her cheek, but the good doctor always liked having her patients verbally tell her where the ouchie was.

_Pleasure, hmph,_ Iana thought. "I have an injury the king insisted I get looked at," she said plainly.

The frown on Kaura's face grew a little tighter. "Is that so?" she asked. "And how did you acquire this injury?"

_As if you don't know, you harpy_, Iana thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "I had an unfortunate run-in with a meat cleaver while going about my duties," she replied. "Nicked my shoulder and opened it up a bit. I have already taken care of it, however, and I am only here—"

"Because the king insisted," Kaura finished. "Yes, I heard you the first time. I'm not _that_ much older than you, you know. My hearing is still quite intact, I assure you." She bookmarked her page and closed the medical tome, rising to her feet and walking up to Iana. "As for having taken care of it already...well, _I_ shall be the judge of that. Take a seat." She gestured to the bench in the corner, a subtle glint in her eye showing she was now in her _true_ physician persona. The one no one, not even Iana, dared mess with. This one would have intimidated even Impa, and _she_ had never feared anything!

Iana did as she was told, having been on the receiving end of one of Kaura's treatments before. She knew what it meant to disobey. It meant...what it meant was the stuff of nightmares. She _did_ try to resist, however, when Kaura began to tug at her shirt, which she quickly unbuttoned and removed herself. Being treated like a child was not a thing Iana would accept, even from the physician.

Kaura quickly examined the wound and made little, annoyed sounds, poking and prodding and hissing in displeasure whenever Iana jerked out of the way because she hit a sore spot.

"Seems a minor infection is trying to catch hold. Pus is already present. I don't believe the meat cleaver was particularly clean," Kaura noted, fetching her bag. "I'll have to open the wound, clean it, and stitch it once more."

"If you believe it is necessary," Iana said.

"I do," the doctor said firmly, leaving no room for arguments. She immediately went about her task, leaving Iana fidgeting slightly. She never had liked being seen to by physicians, especially not those outside of the clan. "Who sewed it up the first time?" Kaura asked.

"My son," Iana replied.

"Fine work," Kaura said, cutting open the stitches. "Almost as good as mine. Got deft hands, that one."

"You've taught him well."

"Only the basics, the finesse comes from you, I believe." Kaura began cleaning the wound, using first alcohol to disinfect as much as possible, and then applying some sort of salve that would fight off whatever else was left of the infection. "With his mind, I can imagine he'd make an excellent physician...if he wasn't so busy learning how to hurt people."

Iana gritted her teeth. It was a familiar argument that was slowly starting up again, and she was in no mood to continue it. "Corporal Ket's son is recovering," she said, changing the subject. "The boy's fever is gone and the cough is apparently weakening. The corporal sends his thanks."

"None needed," Kaura replied. "I only did my job. That particular fever is easily cured with the right mixture."

_Unlike the one the children caught,_ Iana thought.

It was the reason Kaura had been called to Hyrule in the first place. A year earlier, a travelling caravan of traders visiting Castle Town had brought with them some sort of disease that, while mostly harmless to adults, ran rampant through the streets, leaving dozens of sick and dying children in its wake, and eventually found its way into the castle. Akia hadn't caught it, but Sheik, Zelda, and Kerran had. Every single doctor and healer on hand had been stumped, unable to figure out what was wrong. Rhys, desperate to cure them, had sent word to every neighbouring realm, begging them for any information they had on this strange disease. No one had any answers.

Doctor Kaura had. She had heard of the suffering of Hyrule's children, and had immediately left Termina, arriving in Hyrule a mere week and a half after setting out. Whether she'd already had some inkling as to what sort of disease it was, or if she simply made a lucky guess, no one knew (and the damnable woman refused to say!), but she had quickly developed a series of treatments after taking a look at the afflicted.

"Nevertheless, he thanks you."

"Then I suppose I shall have to accept it."

Sheik had been days from death by the time Kaura began her treatments, and the positive effects had become visible a mere twenty-four hours later. Slowly he, along with Zelda, Kerran, and every other child that had been afflicted, made full recoveries. By the time the disease had run its course, hundreds (mostly children and the elderly) had passed, but Iana knew that Kaura's cure had saved thousands. Rhys had immediately offered her the position of royal physician for her efforts, and she had accepted for reasons no one knew.

For that, she was grateful, and she would forever be Kaura's debt, even though the physician grated on her nerves with her very presence. No _healer_ should be so frightening, no matter how good they were. Presumably, Kaura's teacher had been none-too-interested in bedside manners. To Iana's satisfaction, though, she too seemed to rub Kaura the wrong way. Most likely because she knew that Iana's primary purpose in life was to kill, whether in protection of the king or on his orders. She had never had a problem with it, because Rhys never ordered the death of someone who did not, in some way or another, deserve it. Most of the time, he dealt with such matters with his soldiers and guards, anyway, and only asked Iana to handle things if he knew for a fact that something more precise was needed.

The Butcher Boys was one such case—though this time she had anticipated the order long before it arrived, and done it on her own. If Kaura had a problem with that...well, that was, indeed, _her_ problem.

"That should take care of the infection," Kaura noted. "I will re-suture the wound now."

"All right."

She worked in silence for a while, but suddenly drew a breath, pausing. "I have seen what the Butcher Boys were capable of when their boss was displeased," she said slowly, concentrating on the stitching. "I've treated a few of their victims. Your ways are different than mine...but in this case, I believe we both would have ended up at the same point. I would probably have been less merciful, even."

Iana looked at her, surprised to see none of the usual dry wit or sarcasm on her face. It was one of the few times she had ever seen a genuine, unguarded emotion on the older woman's face, and though it was quickly covered back up, it left Iana confident that perhaps there were some more things on which they saw eye to eye on after all.

She would never understand why the kids seemed to adore Kaura, however, especially not when she scared the living daylights out of them on a nearly daily basis. She'd saved their lives, of course, but still... Kaura didn't even appear to like them very much...except for when she was teaching them basic healing and they understood things faster than she expected them to.

Rhys, naturally, went out of his way to avoid seeing her whenever something troubled him, but Iana was always on hand to remind him that he'd hired her for a reason. A king should not be afraid of his own physician, after all. He'd caught on to Iana's own aversion to the Terminan doctor after some time, and Iana was almost a hundred percent certain they were now embroiled in a war of sending each other to Kaura for the smallest of reasons.

A tug at her shoulder reminded her that _this_ was probably a good reason, even though she probably could have fought off the infection on her own. She was a fast healer - her whole family had been.

"Here, drink this," Kaura said upon finishing her work, handing Iana a vial filled with a red liquid. The potion would promote healing, ensuring an even speedier recovery. It tasted foul, but its effects were undeniable. "Try not to move the arm around too much, and let me know if there's any further bleeding, discharge, or any other effects. If you develop a fever, come see me immediately." She was looking at Iana with the eyes of a military commander—impossible to deny.

"Understood," she replied, allowing Kaura to help her dress. _That_ part had been tricky that morning, and she'd nearly torn Sheik's original stitches.

"And tell Sheik that his needlework is fine, but that he needs to be more careful when cleaning wounds. There were small particles in your shoulder—probably textile fibres. Almost invisible, really, and I suppose he didn't have the best lighting conditions to work with, but still—always something to be on the lookout for. Could be deadly."

"I will inform him when he returns from his lessons," Iana confirmed dutifully.

"Good girl," Kaura said wryly, her usual demeanour back. "Now, unless there's something else you need, kindly bugger off. I'm sure there's someone else for you to kill out there. I have work to do."

"I'm sure looking at your little picture book is a very time-consuming task that requires all your attention," Iana countered. "Shall I fetch you some pastels so you can colour them in?"

The second the door closed, separating the two women, identical grins broke out on their faces. Iana's fell almost immediately, however, when she turned around only to find herself face to face with King Rhys.

"About time you went to see her," Rhys said, grinning. "Scary?"

"Terrifying," she replied. "I'm already looking forward to your next bout of the sniffles."

A look of horror came upon the king, and his steps grew a little quick in his hurry to get away from Kaura's office. "Goddesses willing, I will never require her services again."

"Blessed by the Goddesses you may be, Rhys," Iana said, chuckling, "but even _they_ need some entertainment every now and then."

As they walked away, their chatter and easy laughter audible even through the thick door, Kaura found herself shaking her head in annoyance. It was so obvious it was painful to watch, but she'd sworn not to interfere. She had no interest whatsoever in it, really. She didn't! The Sheikah woman was an utter annoyance to deal with, her only redeeming feature being her occasional usefulness in dealing with vermin like the Butcher Boys and that son of hers. The king...well, he was a good man, but so utterly oblivious Kaura found herself wanting to smack the back of his head sometimes.

"So dense, the both of them." She opened her book and quickly found her place again. "Pastels, hmph..."

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Those two really don't like each other, do they? They're more alike than they'd care to admit, though. Short chapter today, I'm afraid! Up next - another time skip!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	9. IX

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
IX**

* * *

The message arrived by way of a falcon Iana had never seen before, though it seemed to know her by the way it swooped down and perched on the balcony railing in front of her, looking expectantly up at her. She looked around, not failing to notice that it had chosen to come to her on one of the few occasions she was alone, having just delivered a report to Rhys. He'd been having tea on the balcony, overlooking the gardens, and had just left to deal with an economic emergency of some sort (though Guilden had a tendency to exaggerate).

She turned her attention back to the falcon, and saw the piece of paper tied to its leg. Reaching it, she was surprised at how well trained it was when it stuck said leg out, allowing her to easily untie it. It did not leave afterwards, either, so it was clearly expecting some sort of reply. Suspicious, she took a close look at her surroundings once more, wary of any watchers. Satisfied there were none, she delicately unrolled the piece of paper, immediately recognising the handwriting within. It was written in cipher, of course, but one she was very familiar with. Within minutes, she'd decoded the message in her head.

_I,_

_I am breaking the silence to inform you of a worrying development in Lumina. The king's advisor, a man named Rehm, has begun taking actions that, while seemingly benign, will have far-reaching repercussions if my suspicions are correct. The civil war some years ago will seem like child's play compared to what I fear Rehm has planned - and the first target will most likely be the king himself. Robar is King Rhys' friend, so I am leaving this decision up to you, as clan leader:_

_Should we interfere? We stand ready at your command._

_P.S. And since I know you worry (even though you will never admit it), he is fine and happy as can be. We all are._

_M._

Iana had to stifle the smile that threatened to touch her lips. She hadn't expected this. Truly, she'd never expected to hear from them ever again. She'd given them her blessing, breaking numerous tenets while doing so, but even then there'd been an...undercurrent of finality, that it would be the last time she ever saw them. And yet, here she stood, the silence finally broken. True, it _could_ have been a forgery, but it was a _damn_ good one, if so. The handwriting could easily be faked, but the cipher was not known outside the clan, and the contents...

Specifically mentioning _him_...well, that was all she needed as proof of the message's authenticity.

She did allow herself to smile for a moment, before looking gravely at the falcon, holding out her arm. "Come, I will write the reply in secret." The falcon didn't give any indication that it understood her words, but it silently hopped onto her arm, carefully gripping it with its talons so it didn't draw blood.

Quickly moving to her quarters, she allowed the bird to perch itself on her desk as she quickly wrote a coded message on a similar piece of paper. It was quick and dirty work, and she tried to convince herself it wasn't because she was excited to hear from them after so long.

_M,_

_Glad to hear you are all fine, though I wish you would not put yourself in danger like this. _

_Nevertheless, I appreciate your warning. I am not overly familiar with King Robar's court, but even during the civil war I found this Rehm fellow suspicious based on what I heard of him. If he is indeed plotting against Robar, it is in everyone's best interests that his plans to not come to fruition. _

_You are hereby authorised to take whatever action you see fit to ensure they do not. My only requirement is that you keep yourselves out of direct danger and do not do anything reckless. If you require assistance, contact me once more and I will render whatever services I can._

_P.S. Please give him my best, as well as my son's._

_I._

She wouldn't tell Sheik about the letter. He didn't need to know about it, and she wanted to keep this piece of correspondence under wraps for now. Her son had grown exceptionally close to the princess and the Rinir siblings, and she couldn't risk him accidentally telling them.

She triple-checked the message to ensure the cipher would be recognisable to the recipients and then tied it to the falcon's leg. Carrying it to the window, she opened it. "You know where to go, don't you?" she asked it, receiving a surprisingly intelligent look back. It almost looked annoyed, like her question was offensive. "Of course you do," she said. "Now go." It took off silently, disappearing from view quickly.

She remained at the window for a while, observing the sky as it began to turn red as the sun set. Lumina was far away. Hopefully her message would arrive before it was too late. This advisor, this Rehm, was a thinker. A planner. Patience was probably his biggest virtue, and that was probably her best hope of being able to foil his plans before they had even begun.

"Stay safe," she whispered before closing the window and returning to her duties. Or lack thereof for the moment. She had a stealth lesson to give.

* * *

**ONE YEAR LATER - SHEIK IS THIRTEEN, LINK AND ZELDA ARE FOURTEEN**

* * *

"You're improving."

"You've noticed only just now?"

"Certainly takes you long enough to get to the point."

"Mistress Iana said a good feint requires time."

"Time, not _ages_."

"That's it!"

Kerran's blade met nothing but air as Sheik twisted out of the way, a smirk on his face. He kept dodging and weaving the youngest Rinir's attacks in a wide circle, leading him around the practice yard like a dog on a leash. His own sword was kept in a loose grip, but its use had not yet been necessary. When possible, dodging blows was far more preferable to parrying them. It conserved energy while at the same time tiring one's opponent out, and served to demoralise their spirit. Plus, it pissed off Kerran to no end, and that was always worth it.

"Stop moving!" the Hylian shouted, jaw clenched and breaths coming in quick puffs. "Stand and fight!"

"I don't think I will, Link," Sheik replied, using the nickname that had practically replaced Kerran's real name at this point (they all felt it suited him more), giving a little flourish as he danced out of a wide swing's way. "This is far more entertaining. Besides, you need the exercise. Been having far too many lemon cakes lately, you have. Just listen to that breathing!"

That got a pair of chuckles from somewhere to his left, and he grinned. Akia and Zelda were watching them spar, sitting on the training yard's fence.

"You just know you can't take me in a straight fight," Link countered, suddenly jumping forward and aiming a devastating over-head blow at him. It would have cleaved him in two vertically if it had hit (and if the sparring blade had actually been sharp), but Sheik simply twisted away, his own blade coming up to smack Link across the rump, prompting the two observers to giggle loudly. Flushing, Link growled and charged at Sheik.

The Hylian moved too fast for Sheik to simply move out of the way, and he quickly found himself on the defensive, finally forced to block his attacks properly. Link was certainly not Sheikah when it came to combat movement, but his strength, even now, more than made up for it. Every strike made his arms go a little number, and Sheik knew he could never hope to win if he allowed this to continue.

Soon, both fighters were breathing heavily and sweating, trying to gain the upper hand. Their blades met, and they each tried to push against the other. Sheik knew _that_ was a lost cause—Link was heavier than him and wouldn't budge. Instead, he made it so it appeared he was giving it his all, waiting for that tell-tale flicker of triumph in Link's ocean-blue eyes that signalled when he would push his advantage. The Hylian tensed, readying to put all his weight behind his sword...which Sheik was waiting for. Just as Link began to push, Sheik disengaged and stepped aside, sending Link stumbling forward at the sudden lack of resistance.

He _almost_ felt guilty for the way Link ate dirt, sprawled on the ground in a comical fashion, but the indignant look on his face when he looked back at the Sheikah was too much. He roared with laughter, joined by Link's sister and Princess Zelda. Link gave a roar of his own, this one of rage, and charged at Sheik once more, sans weapon. Sheik had barely even seen him to get to his feet through the haze of tears in his eyes, but the sudden impact forced the air from his lungs, and he found himself wrestling with Link on the ground.

In a prepared scenario, Sheik could have thought of several ways to turn Link's attack on himself, but now, out of breath and disoriented, the Hylian had the advantage. He tried to shift Link's weight in several different ways, but it was no use, and soon he found himself being straddled, Link's hands on his wrists to keep him from moving. He'd been defeated. And _this_ way, of all things.

"Hah!" Link exclaimed, chuckling. "So much for agility, huh? Pin you down and there's nothing you can do!"

Snarling, Sheik tried to buck him off, but he had absolutely no chance of doing that. His mother had taught them all the best way of keeping someone pinned, and Link had clearly been paying attention. It was a pity his mother had never bothered to show them a way to _break_ this lock...

"Come on, admit it," Link continued. "I beat you."

"Never," Sheik growled, struggling even more, throwing his head back and forth.

"Say it," Link repeated, lowering his face so they were inches apart. "I want to see defeat in your eyes!"

He wasn't sure what happened, but suddenly Sheik found himself keenly aware of how close Link's face was to his own, how their breaths mingled, Link's flushed red cheeks, the excitement and joy in the blues meeting his reds, the bead of sweat running down the length of Link's nose...

Link's eyes widened slightly, and his head dipped lower.

Unfortunately, Sheik was about to raise his, and his forehead collided with the bridge of Link's nose. The Hylian yelped and launched himself away, landing on his back and cradling his face as he groaned. Sheik saw stars for a few seconds, but his pain was nothing compared to Link's, he imagined, and guilt welled up within him when he saw that blood was dripping from between the youngest Rinir's fingers.

"Right, I think that concludes the spar," Akia said, suddenly beside Sheik and pulling him to his feet. She was smiling, but he could see the slight worry in her eyes. "I think you'd best take him to Doctor Kaura, Sheik."

The very thought struck a chord of fear in him, but Sheik nodded. Kaura would _not_ be happy about this. She never was. Sheik was thirteen, almost an adult, practically, but one _look_ from the doctor was enough to have him feel like a little boy who wanted to hide under his blankets after a nightmare.

"Here, stop the blood with this," Zelda said by Link's side, gently pressing a handkerchief against his bruised nose. "I hope it's not broken..."

Sheik almost wanted to laugh at the change in Zelda's attitude when, a few years before, she'd _hoped_ Sheik had broken Link's nose.

"All right, come on," he said, helping Link to his feet. "Let's see Kaura."

"I dod wadt to," Link said. "I'b fide."

"You're bleeding, you're not _fine_," Sheik said, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Link's arm and began dragging him towards the castle, trying to ignore the building dread in his stomach. The last time one of them had accidentally gotten hurt during training, she'd given them a verbal lashing that _still_ made him shiver whenever he saw her office door. Outside of that office, Kaura wasn't scary at all, even though she clearly wanted to be, but when she was _Doctor _Kaura...brrrr...

He didn't notice how Link's eyes kept focusing on Sheik's hand, wrapped securely around his forearm, the whole way there.

* * *

"You saw it, didn't you?"

"I'm not blind."

"So what do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think." Akia glared at Zelda. "And neither does it matter what _you_ think."

Zelda glared back at the older girl. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's not for us to judge," Akia elaborated, hoping the princess would take the hint. To emphasise, she swung her blade, which Zelda easily parried. The two combatants circled each other. "We may disagree on a lot of things, but Li—Kerran is my brother, and so is Sheik!"

Zelda scowled, aiming a thrust at Akia's middle, which she sidestepped. "I still don't know what you're talking about," she said. "What judgement? And of course they're your brothers, just like they're mine, and I want to help them."

Akia paused, confused, allowing Zelda to capitalise and quickly disarm her. Akia had gotten a _lot_ better since Iana had started training her privately, and Zelda considered herself and Akia to be about evenly matched now, despite the age difference of three years. It was a remarkable progression, Iana herself had said, probably owed to the natural talent both Akia and her brother had for the sword. It made for fun sparring, in Zelda's opinion...except when Sheik decided to be a smarmy git and humiliate them all as he had with Link.

Pointing her blade at Akia in triumph, she frowned. "You don't want to help them?" she asked, confused.

"Help them with what?" Akia asked, suddenly not understanding the conversation at all.

"Did your brain fall out, or something? _That_!" Zelda exclaimed. "The blushing and, and...and the almost..."

"Right, right," Akia said, wondering how they'd managed to go full circle without actually meeting at some point here. "I meant I don't want you to judge them _for_ that," she clarified. "I heard enough talk from Father's business associates about it back then...I don't care what they say—they're my brothers and I love them."

"Right, so what are we going to do about it?" Zelda asked. "They're too stupid to realise it themselves."

"They're boys, of course they're stupid," Akia said, rolling her eyes. "And yes, they certainly won't understand it on their own, even with...whatever it was that just happened." She paused, a plan forming. Slowly, a grin began to grow on her mouth. "I have an idea..."

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Your Grace?"

Rhys glowered from his chair by the fireplace, gesturing to the identical chair beside it. "Don't call me that when we're alone," he said. "Makes me feel old."

"Well, you're not young," Iana replied, elegantly seating herself with no indication that she'd just been immensely rude to her king.

"Unlike you?" he countered with a slight grin.

"I've never claimed to be spry enough to wrestle a Goron," she said innocently, more than aware that she was not as young as she had once been. Not that that had any bearing whatsoever on how well she could perform her duties.

"No," Rhys agreed with a shrug. "You'd just do it without any grandstanding. _And_ you would win."

"Well, I _am_ quite impressive," she said without any humility whatsoever.

Rhys laughed. "Yes, yes you are," he agreed. Then his smile faded slowly, and his gaze went back to the fireplace. It was a sobering moment, and Iana straightened up in her seat. It was rare for the king to become so serious, and it usually only happened when there was something...unpleasant to discuss. "How long have the Rinir siblings been in our care, now?" he asked.

She didn't miss that he'd said _our_ instead of _my_, and filed that away for later. "About three years, now, I believe," she said. "Young Akia turns seventeen tomorrow, and was fourteen when she arrived here."

"Growing up so fast," Rhys said, and Iana found herself nodding in agreement. "One more year, and she will be of age to take control of her family's estate. Do you think she will be ready?"

"I'm sure she will," Iana said. "She's a clever girl, and has learned much from you about governing. And it is not like she will be leaving the castle the moment she comes of age," she continued, wondering if Rhys was afraid he'd lose Akia. He'd come to love her like a second daughter, Iana knew. "After all, she won't want to separate Kerran and the others so soon. I believe she will ask you to be allowed to stay until Kerran, too, has come of age. That is, if you'd be willing—"

"Of course," Rhys interrupted. "They will always be welcome here."

"Then I believe she will stay."

"I see..." Rhys sighed. "Then, I suppose the truth will have to be told sooner or later."

Iana raised an eyebrow. "The truth?"

Rhys looked at her then, his eyes oddly focused. "When were you going to tell me?" he asked.

"Tell you what?"

"Don't play dumb, Iana," he said, shaking his head. "We both know you can't act the part."

She had inkling as to what he was on about, now, but there was clearly some buried frustration here, and she wanted him to have an outlet. The peace talks with the Gerudo were becoming stressful these days, she knew. So she kept quiet, wanting him to actually say it before she came clean.

"The investigation came up with nothing," Rhys continued. "Which I thought strange, because _you_ were leading it. Only later did I realise it was _because_ you were leading it. That was sloppy work, and I wonder why I did not see it before." He gazed back into the fire, jaw working as he clearly struggled with the words. "I know you killed Lord Kolvar," he finally muttered.

Iana took a second to breathe. She'd known it would come up some day, either through her or Rhys. She'd been so angry back then, that her handling of the fake investigation had been rushed. To anyone who didn't know Iana very well (which was just about everyone except her small circle here in the castle), the report looked absolutely fine, if entirely inconclusive. Rhys, though...Rhys would have seen the discrepancies, the way things didn't entirely fit together. She'd claimed it was an accident, that the Rinir patriarch had perished in a fire that had started in his office. Why he couldn't have escaped, she had not elaborated on. The fact that none of the servants had been able to enter his study because the door was locked...she really shouldn't have mentioned it. But then...maybe she'd wanted to get caught. She felt guilty every time she looked at Akia and Kerran, but she did not regret having done it. Their lives were better for it.

"Yes," she said. "I killed him. I snuck into his office, cut his throat, and started the fire to cover up the evidence. I made sure that everyone else made it out of the mansion before I left."

It was good to finally get it off her chest, even if she hadn't felt its weight in a particularly obstructive manner. Rhys didn't look happy, however.

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you kill one of the few nobles I ever considered a friend?" He must have felt betrayed, at that moment. Hurt. Iana didn't like that. She'd never wanted to make him feel like this. And now she had to make him feel even _worse_.

"He was never your friend," she spoke levelly, realising that employing such a neutral tone must have been like twisting the knife in his wound, but she had to...or she feared she'd never make it through the story. "Lord Kolvar and a close circle of his fellow nobles were actively working against Hyrule, undermining you at every turn by colluding with the Gerudo. They leaked troop movements, supply routes, military intelligence...they had us on the ropes for a while, all thanks to him and his cronies."

"Do...do you have proof of this?" Rhys asked, eyes wide and unbelieving. It was one thing to realise that his friend had been a less-than-stellar parent (downright abusive, in fact), but to have that friend accused of treason? That was...unthinkable. "Kolvar was a patriot—he _hated_ the Gerudo. He never would have worked with—"

"His dislike of the Gerudo was not stronger than his desire for power," she cut him off. "And yes, I have proof. I collected several letters from his study—correspondence between him and a Gerudo individual who identified herself as Twinrova. I don't even think King Ganondorf was aware of their cooperation. I can show you the letters, if you want."

"I..."

"But I would be lying if I told you that I killed him purely out of duty," she continued. "If his treason was my only grievance, I would have had him dragged before you in chains, awaiting your judgement. His assassination was...personal."

"You'd never spoken more than two words with Kolvar," Rhys said weakly, gripping the armrests of his chair. "What personal reason could you possible have had to kill him?"

"He leaked transport routes," she said. "Including those used for... escorting the king."

Realisation dawned upon him, then. "The ambush," he said breathlessly.

"Yes," she said, nodding, feeling the cold chill of that night like she was there right now. The rain had been pounding, turning the road into a muddy mess, undoubtedly helped by the ambushing Gerudo. "They knew we were coming. They had ambushed our convoys before, but their forces were always small and flexible, easy to pull out if they were overwhelmed. Their strength was _not_ small that night. Someone _warned_ them that the king of Hyrule would be on the road that night, _told_ them where we would be passing. They _knew_ how many soldiers and Sheikah warriors were with you. They _knew_ where to sabotage the road so the carriage would get stuck in the mud."

She looked down at her hands, folding them in her lap as she tried not to let herself be assailed by the images of her dead kin lying in the mud, their bodies littering the road alongside those of Gerudo and Hylian soldiers.

"We were broken, that night," she said quietly. "My sister...Impa always knew what to do. She never faltered, even when the weight became too much. I tried to be like her, but we kept dwindling, and now..." She took a deep breath, blinking away the tears that were gathering. "If _I_ had been killed that night, instead of her, then maybe—"

"Don't say that," Rhys interrupted, crouching in front of her, his hands suddenly on hers, gripping tightly. "Please..._never_ say that."

This was bad, she knew, but she let him do it anyway. "Nevertheless...we as a people were finished by that ambush. Everything that followed was just a...slow death. I couldn't let that go unpunished. This," she said, freeing one of her hands and pointing to the orange tear tattoo under her eye, "is more than a mark of mourning for my people. It was a promise. I knew that ambush couldn't have been a fluke, and I investigated it on my own.

"At first, I thought the Gerudo had simply gotten lucky and come across the intelligence by way of a dead officer or something similar, which meant I had a group of Gerudo to kill. But when I captured one of their officers and interrogated her, she revealed that they'd gotten the information from a Hylian noble. She didn't know which noble it was, so I killed her. Then, I moved my focus to the nobles. It took me years to track him down, for Kolvar knew how to hide his tracks exceptionally well.

"It was a letter from one of his household staff, which I intercepted during the investigation, that finally led me to conclude that Kolvar was involved, if not responsible. I broke into his estate one night and found the letters. I stole them, and after reading them I contemplated informing you...but then I looked in a mirror, and knew what I had to do. I had to avenge my sister, and everyone else I lost that night. It was wrong of me, I know. Sheikah do not kill for anything but duty... I lied to my son that day, after he nearly broke Lord Kerran's nose."

She stood, forcing Rhys backwards and disengaging her hands from his. Kneeling in front of him, she bowed her head as low as she could. "I have betrayed you, Your Grace," she said. "I murdered one of your vassals without your knowledge or approval, burdening your household with his children. I have gone against my people's tenets, and broken my oath to your family. I have disgraced myself, and made a mockery of the covenant between the Sheikah race and your House. I freely admit these crimes, and I will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. I only beg that you do not let my son suffer for _my_ actions. He knows nothing of this, and is innocent."

The king did not say anything for several minutes, and Iana dared not look up. She'd expected all this to come to light one day...she just wished she'd have more time to prepare. Time to smuggle Sheik out of Hyrule to keep him safe in case Rhys decided not to heed her plea. She'd probably never be allowed to see him again—she'd be locked away for life, if Rhys didn't simply have her executed on immediately. He'd be right to do so. It would do wonders for his reputation among the nobles—he would finally have broken the wicked Sheikah witch's hold on him...

"The covenant," Rhys suddenly said, his voice low. "It's broken."

"Yes," she said, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Centuries of allegiance and loyalty...broken."

Rhys sighed. "No, you don't understand," he said. "It _was_ broken already."

"Three years ago," she agreed.

Strong arms pulled her to her feet, then, and the annoyed Rhys' eyes bored into her own. "Iana, look at the wall."

She did. Among the many hunting trophies and paintings that decorated the walls of the king's study, an ancient tapestry had always accompanied one particularly large spot. It had depicted the Sheikah and Hylian peoples, the former bowing to the latter, as the covenant between them had been entered. Shelter had been offered, in exchange for service. Shelter from what, Iana had never known—that knowledge was lost to the ages. All she knew was that the Sheikah had been wandering, driven from their ancestral birthplace, and were on the brink of destruction. The king of Hyrule, Rhys' forefather, had offered them a home. In return, the Sheikah would serve his family and bloodline for as long as they both existed.

It was a beautiful tapestry, though marred by age. She had rarely looked upon it, however. It was a bitter reminder of why her son would never be truly accepted even in his own home. Still, it was beautiful...and missing.

She blinked. The spot it had occupied on the wall for so long was empty.

"The covenant," she said. "It's...where is it?"

"In there," Rhys said, pointing to the fireplace. "I burned it."

"What?"

"Quite some time ago, too," he said, a small smile gracing his lips just then. "I'm surprised you never noticed...but then, you never looked at it, did you?"

"I don't understand," she said, a headache rapidly forming as the night's events kept changing too fast for her to keep up.

"I haven't been a good friend to you, Iana," Rhys said, stepping back and leaning against the wall in a most un-kingly manner. "To you, or your son. Or your people. Whatever debt the Sheikah once owed my family, I believe that it has been repaid a thousand fold over the centuries. When my father died, I intended to free your people from the oath immediately...but I feared you would all leave the second I announced it. I...I was afraid of losing you. And then I kept putting it off, convinced it was the only way I could guarantee that you would stay. It was selfish and cowardly of me—but it took me too long to realise it. I burned the tapestry the night you returned after destroying the Butcher Boys gang. I intended to tell you after your consultation with Doctor Kaura, but then the teasing started and..." Now it was he who looked at the floor. "There was never a good time."

"Why are you telling me this?" Iana asked hesitantly. What difference did this make? She had still gone rogue...and the covenant...the tapestry...

"You wronged me by killing Lord Kolvar," he said, looking up at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "But I wronged you first by not releasing you from the oath when I should have long ago. If, as you say, Lord Kolvar truly was a traitor and you can show me these letters of his...then...then you have done me a favour, despite how the situation looks. True, I would have wanted the treason to be made known, but doing so would not only have disgraced Kolvar, but also his entire House, including young Akia and Kerran. They don't deserve that. Three years ago, I would have been outraged...but now...now I only feel a little bitter that you kept it from me for so long. But then, I've been keeping you as a slave for much longer...which makes me far worse." He hesitated. "Can...can you forgive me?"

She wasn't sure what possessed her to step forward and take his hands with her own, as he had minutes before, but she did. Her eyes met his, and she made her face as unreadable as his. Whatever this meant...her head was spinning from the effort of trying to figure it out. "I...forgive you," she said. She was free. Sheik was free. They were _free_! "But...I don't know what to do with freedom. Where would we go?"

"I would have you stay," Rhys said immediately, his guard slipping momentarily, his eyes betraying his true feelings. And in them, Iana saw what she had been fighting against for so long, what would ruin Rhys' reputation and lose him the respect of his subjects if she ever allowed him to act on it. The thing about which she'd been fighting herself.

Rhys always said she was unreadable, her face a stony mask. There had been a reason for that. It wasn't proper. It wasn't allowed. But in the wake of it all...perhaps...just once...

She took a step forward, looking into Rhys' eyes. Blue, like his daughter's.

It was a bad idea. The repercussions were unthinkable. And yet...

No words were exchanged, no gestures were made, and only the crackling fire could be heard as their lips met.

The covenant really was broken.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**This whole AU really wasn't intended to be so Iana-centric, but her character is just too much fun to let go. Typical me, huh? At least the kids got a little dialogue in this time!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	10. X

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Because of the way this story came into being, the chronology is going to be all kinds of screwed up because I don't have the time (or energy) to start rearranging the chapters. So from now on, at the beginning of each chapter, I will give you a point of reference in the form of the trio's ages. Hopefully that will work. If not, let me know and I'll try to figure out something else.**

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**Divergent Souls  
****X**

* * *

**Thirteen years ago - Sheik is about 6 months old; Link and Zelda are 1.5 years old**

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_The wind howled and the rain pounded down mercilessly, turning the road into a bog, just as she had feared when the route had been chosen. The highway was out of the question, naturally, but this particular country road had fallen into disrepair long ago. She'd voiced her concerns, but had been outvoted by nearly every other person at the meeting. Her concerns were taken into consideration, she knew that, but secrecy was deemed more important than the ease of traversal. She couldn't help but feel a small pang of satisfaction when her predictions came true, but tried to stifle it quickly. Their predicament was a dangerous one, and now was not the moment for saying "I told you so"...no matter how good it would feel._

_Her mount stumbled, and she had to fight to regain control for several seconds. It was no wonder the horse was struggling—its hooves were sinking into the mud and small crevices that were forming as the rain continued to erode the substrate on which the road was built._

_"Iana, are you all right?" asked an authoritative voice from up ahead, barely audible over the crashes of thunder. It was a lovely night they'd chosen to move the king from the frontline._

_She looked ahead, finding her older sister staring back from her own mount, face drawn and lips tight in what passed as a look of concern for the clan leader. Iana knew her sister better than anyone, though, and didn't need the Sheikah's superior night vision to see Impa's worry as clear as day._

_"I'm fine," she called back, noticing that the royal carriage was getting further and further away, flanked by twelve members of the royal guard, five soldiers wearing the colours of Lord Kolvar Rinir, including the lord himself, and five more Sheikah—all of them men. It was folly, for both her and Impa to be putting themselves at risk at the same time...but the king's safety was paramount. "Just stumbled, that's all! Get back to the carriage!"_

_Impa nodded, nudging her horse into a gallop to catch up with the carriage as Iana took a moment to calm her own mount down before gently urging it on, trying to steer clear of unsafe stretches of road. She noticed the carriage's wheel tracks getting deeper and deeper as she went, confirming her fear that if conditions did not improve soon, they would find themselves..._

_Stuck._

_The carriage's wheels had sunk halfway into the mud, and the horses were unable to pull it back up, so strong was its hold. The royal guards and Kolvar's men were trying to help by pushing and pulling on the carriage, but it seemed to be of no use. Iana cursed, noticing that Impa had the other Sheikah (Jias, Alon, Iryno, Ilya, and Iolas, all good men) take up positions around the carriage, scouting for the enemy._

_Lord Kolvar was directing the carriage effort, looking none-too-pleased about the situation. He wanted to get back to his family, no doubt, and not die one this miserable road in the middle of nowhere._

_Impa's eyes met Iana's when she came up to her, narrowed with suspicion._

_"No tracks," she said so quietly that only Iana could hear her over the storm. "But the road is in much worse condition here, for no discernible reason."_

_"Sabotage?" Iana asked._

_"Most likely. If we can't get the carriage out within the next thirty seconds, we go on without it."_

_"Who could have known we were coming this way?"_

_"No one," Impa said, eyes hardening._

_"Impa," Ilya called from somewhere to their right, climbing up from the thicket by the side of the road. "I found shovels and pickaxes in the bushes! This is definitely—hurgh!"_

_Ilya fell, an arrowhead protruding from his throat, hands reaching for it, as if attempting to pull it out. He went still a moment after._

_"Ambush!" Impa shouted, drawing the ancestral blade Kazuya. "To arms! Defend the king!"_

_All at once, arrows rained upon them from somewhere off the road, taking down several royal guards and one of Lord Kolvar's men, while grey-dressed Gerudo soldiers surged out from cover, brandishing scimitars and glaives and screaming bloody murder. Iana was the first to make contact, jumping from her saddle to crash down on top of the closest two thieves from the desert, daggers plunging into one's eye and the other's throat. In the corner of her eye, she saw Impa charging into the fray atop her steed, severing a head with each swing of Kazuya. _

_Her charge broke the immediate attack from the southern flank, and the Hylian soldiers were already forming a defensive perimeter around the carriage, fending off the attack from the north. Iolas and Alon had retreated to the top of the carriage, their short bows flinging arrows in every direction, taking down Gerudo with deadly precision—each shot a killing one. Jias and Iryno formed up by Impa's position, covering their clan leader's sides._

_That still left the Gerudo archers as a problem, however. Finishing off her two first kills of the night, Iana came to her feet and, after ascertaining that everyone's attention was on the carriage and those protecting it, set off into the woods. She ran for twenty feet and then took a hard left towards the direction she'd calculated the arrows were coming from. She saw the archers long before they had a chance to see her. Five of them, and they were carefully picking their shots. They'd have trouble killing any of the soldiers now that they were aware of the arrows and were using their armour for what it was worth...but Impa and the others were still vulnerable._

_Letting out a battle cry, Iana threw her two daggers right into two of the archers' backs and, before they realised what was happening, had landed a flying kick right into the back of a third's head. Landing on her back, she rolled back to her feet and had another dagger out just in time to block an overhead blow from an archer who'd realised what was going on. Jabbing the red-haired woman in the solar plexus, Iana quickly raked her dagger across the Gerudo's neck, immediately moving on to the last woman standing._

_"Sheikah scum!" she cried, loosing an arrow at point blank range. It was only luck that ensured Iana twisted _just_ enough out of the way for the arrow to miss. The shock of it froze the Gerudo, however, and her life was ended by Iana's dagger sinking into her neck. The Gerudo she'd kicked was just getting back to her feet when she, too, had an encounter far too close with Iana's dagger, which found its place somewhere between her ribs._

_Picking up a bow and a quiver from the dead archers, Iana immediately set about terrorising the battlefield herself. She first took down several enemy warriors trying to get through to the carriage. She saw the still body of Iolas on top of it, several arrows embedded in his body, but knew she couldn't focus on that for now—not while Alon was still fighting with an arrow in his shoulder._

_Impa's horse was dead, but she herself was still fighting—though Jias was nowhere to be seen among the press of bodies. Iryno, with his spear, was keeping a whole group of Gerudo away by himself, but he'd be overwhelmed soon. Iana did her best to thin the ranks, nailing one of the enemy right between the eyes as she stared towards Iana's position, no doubt wondering where their ranged support was._

_Then Iryno stumbled in the mud and, unable to recover in time, was felled by a glaive in his back. Even over the storm and din of battle, Iana heard Impa scream with rage as her ferocity doubled, felling enemies with such deadly precision that even the Gerudo had second thoughts about approaching her._

_The smell of blood was thick in the air, and Iana felt it coating her tongue. The enemy pressed closer—too close for Iana to get any good shots in without risking hitting any of the others. Abandoning her bow and arrows, she retrieved her daggers and charged ahead, intent on rejoining her kin...or what was left of them._

_Over the clamour of the battle, she heard Rhys' voice issuing challenges to the Gerudo—had the damned fool climbed out of the carriage?_

_"Iana!" Impa cried upon spotting her, just as she sliced an enemy open from shoulder to hip. "I can't find Jias, have you—"_

_"Impa!"_

_Impa saw it just too late. A Gerudo wielding one scimitar in each hand had circled behind her and had already been poised to strike. She managed to block the first scimitar with Kazuya, but the other simply knocked her shorter blade out of her hand and bit into her forearm. Whirling around, the scimitar-wielding Gerudo danced out of the way of Impa's counter strike and, almost playfully, sliced a long, deep line into her thigh._

_Iana tried to get to her, but there were too many enemies around her, all trying to block her way. She had to get to her sister's side—she had to save her!_

_Cutting her way through them, she thought she'd finally have a chance to reach Impa in time...but it was not to be. Attention drawn by a pained scream, she froze when she saw her sister, on her knees, run through by a curved blade. Iana screamed...or thought she did. Her throat certainly stung, as if she was, but all she could hear was the pounding of blood in her ears, drowning out every other sound._

_She wasn't sure what happened after that. The last thing she could remember was crashing into the dual-wielding Gerudo, smashing her head over and over into a rock on the ground until her hands were bloody, and then reaching for one of her scimitars..._

_Then she was standing above the bodies...so many of them...all red-haired and dark-skinned, golden irises looking blankly up at her or the sky._

_"I...Iana..."_

_She was at her sister's side in an instant, gently cradling Impa's head in her lap while examining the wound._

_"It's...no...use," Impa said weakly, coughing blood. "It's...my lungs...and...stomach..."_

_Iana growled. "No, we can fix this!" She looked up, seeing none of the others. "Alon! Where are you! Impa's hurt, she...she..."_

_"Sister," Impa said, reaching out to stroke Iana's cheek gently. "It's...over..."_

_"It can't be over!" Iana shouted, fighting her every instinct that told her it was. "Not now! You can't...you can't leave me alone! You can't leave Sheik alone! What am I going to do if...if you are gone?!"_

_Impa smiled. "Lead...the clan...recall those...who still live and...raise your...son..." Another bout of coughing left droplets of her blood on Iana's face, but she didn't care. "Proud of you...little sister...I...love..."_

_She never finished her sentence, her last breath coming far too soon._

_Iana didn't cry. She closed Impa's unseeing eyes—eyes she had always looked to whenever she felt uncertain, assured that the guidance in them would always be there—and gently rested her head back on the muddy ground. The rain still fell, the thunder still crashed, unheeding of what had transpired in the night. Retrieving Kazuya from the muddy ground, she turned her attention to the carriage, around which the remaining soldiers were gathered, along with the king. She saw Alon's body on the ground, surrounded by a ring of dead Gerudo, defiant to the last. She briefly wondered where his head had gone._

_"We caught one," King Rhys said when she approached, gesturing to the lone surviving Gerudo sitting on the ground in the middle of the circle of soldiers. Lord Kolvar's sword was drawn, but Rhys was gesturing him away._

_"Suffer not the bitch to live!" Kolvar growled, clearly inching to execute the desert woman on the spot._

_Iana didn't say a word. She merely grabbed the Gerudo by the scruff of her neck, pulled her to her feet, and began dragging her into the woods. The soldiers made to follow, but Iana's bark kept them at bay._

_"I will interrogate her—alone! Get the king to safety! I will catch up!"_

_It was a breach of protocol, but all Iana could think was vengeance—and all she could see was her sister's blood and that of her kinsmen—Ilya, Alon, Iryno, Iolas, and Jias—spilled on the road._

_The Gerudo's passing was anything but quick, and far from pleasant. Her fingers were the first things to go. Iana was sure the king, Kolvar, and their men could hear the woman's screams as they rode away from the battlefield, the carriage abandoned in the muddy ditch. She yielded no information of use apart from the fact that they had indeed known that the king would be moved along this road—she had no idea from where they had gotten the information. That was the only reason Iana had finally broken her neck to finish her off, rather than let her bleed out slowly from a painful stomach wound._

_She found her horse and those of Iryno and Iolas. It was with far less dignity than they deserved that she laid the bodies of her kin across the horses' backs. She felt guilty for leaving the Hylian soldiers on the road while only taking those her kinsmen, but she could not bear to leave them there to be picked apart by scavengers. Rhys would understand...or so she hoped._

* * *

"Iana?"

She blinked at Rhys, who was giving her a concerned look. "Pardon?" she asked.

"I said, are you all right?" Rhys asked. "You've been staring into the air for the last ten minutes. Are you feeling ill?"

Around them, military officers and nobles were laughing and cheering and drinking, celebrating the decisive victory on the fields that had halted the Gerudo advance and driven them back, hopefully marking the beginning of the offensive that would drive them back to their valley and the desert wastes.

"No, no, I'm fine," she said, bowing her head respectfully as she suddenly remembered where she was. As clan leader, she was now Rhys' personal guard, and it would not do for her to appear weak. "Just remembering," she added when Rhys gave her an unconvinced look. His expression shifted instantly to one of sadness.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's not your fault," she assured him quietly, making sure to speak so quietly that none of the other party guests could hear her words.

Six weeks. Not nearly enough time for the pain to go away; plenty for her to be able to rein it in long enough to function, however. Impa would have been horrified at her carelessness. But she wasn't here now, was she? Iana felt for the comforting presence of Kazuya at her side—hers now by right...but it would always be Impa's.

"Perhaps you should get some fresh air," Rhys suggested.

"I don't need it," she protested.

"Then I would like you to check in on my daughter," Rhys said, his eyes silently adding "and your son".

Upon Sheik's birth, Rhys' wife, the Queen of Hyrule, had insisted on keeping the young Princess Zelda and Sheik close to each other at all times, believing that their relationship should be as one between a brother and sister since Sheik was to be her protector. Iana didn't mind that—if anything, it ensured that the immense wall of security that'd been erected around Hyrule's darling princess also protected Sheik.

It was an odd arrangement, certainly, but it seemed to work.

"I...yes, I suppose I should," Iana agreed, aware that she was far from as composed as she should be. "If you believe my protection will not be—"

"—necessary while surrounded by my high command and the most loyal of subjects?" Rhys said, smiling. "I do believe I will survive."

"Then I shall be back shortly," she said, bowing.

She expertly navigated her way through the ballroom, having nearly reached the door when someone suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Mistress Iana," Lord Kolvar Rinir slurred, well into his cups by now. "I don't believe we've properly introduced ourselves to each other." The blonde man was tall and imposing, the beard around his mouth coloured red by the wine he'd spilled. While he was a formidable warrior on the field, she doubted he could remain standing if she pushed him now.

"Lord Kolvar," she said, bowing once more, though far shallower than she had for Rhys. "My apologies, but I have duties to attend to—"

"Damn shame, that ambush," Kolvar continued, unheeding of her complete disinterest in speaking to him. "If only we'd gotten the carriage out, our men would still live." He drank deeply from his goblet. "My condolences for the loss of Mistress Impa...she was your sister, was she not?"

"She was," Iana said, nodding. "And thank you. Now, I need to—"

"Fine woman, fine woman," he said. "A huge loss for the kingdom...and your people too. Means you're the last female, doesn't it?"

Iana paused. The Sheikah's dwindling numbers were no secret, but to brazenly say it like that... It left a bad taste in her mouth. "Indeed, it does," she confirmed, fighting the urge to punch the bastard right in his mouth. She couldn't recall Kolvar ever having said a kind word about any Sheikah before now, and it was clear that he was mocking Impa's memory. What Iana wouldn't give to have him alone in a soundproofed room right now...

"Lord Kolvar, we need your experienced wine palate!" another noble called out, drawing the head of House Rinir's attention, allowing Iana to duck out of his way and into the hallway, immediately heading towards the king and queen's chambers.

As she walked, she realised that something was niggling her about the way Kolvar had approached her. The fact that the nobles despised her people was nothing new, but the way Kolvar had carried himself and the tone he'd used...it was almost as if he was gloating. He wasn't the only one who'd taken pleasure in finding that Impa had been killed, but Kolvar had almost seemed...proud. Like it was a personal accomplishment. But he hadn't taken any actions against the Sheikah during the battle...at least not to her knowledge, so why was he so smug?

Perhaps he really was just _that_ happy that the Sheikah was sure to die out now? It wouldn't surprise her.

She shook her head and turned her mind back to her investigation. She had to find out how the Gerudo had known where to ambush the king. It had been too coordinated and reinforced to have been a coincidence, which meant the enemy had _known_ they were coming, with quite a head start. That information had only been afforded to the high command, and dispatched by couriers. Had one of them been waylaid by the enemy? Or perhaps they'd defected? A spy, perhaps?

She sighed, the royal chambers coming into view. Ten guards positioned in the corridor. The queen did not take any chances with her precious daughter. The guards snapped to attention as she approached, knowing better than to sneer at her on duty. She was tired, and knowing that she had a long investigation ahead of her did not help matters. But what other choice did she have?

She opened the door, affecting a smile on her face in case the children were awake. They were.

A Sheikah's job was never over.

_To be continued…_

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**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	11. XI

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XI**

* * *

**1071 - Sheik is thirteen, Link and Zelda are fourteen.**

* * *

Aveil stepped hesitantly into the king's chambers, closely following Nabooru and Ayla, along with several other members of what had become known as the Closed Council. The power vacuum left behind by Kotake and Koume had resulted in a lot of infighting between the Gerudo of high standing, each one trying to gain a foothold to the next rung on the ladder and, if possible, the ability to whisper into the king's ear. When the struggle had turned bloody, Ganondorf intervened and established the Closed Council, a body of advisors personally chosen by him. Every level of the Gerudo society was represented, and the king himself presided over the meetings.

Which was why Aveil didn't understand the reason for her presence. She was a nobody—her warrior training not yet completed, and no responsibilities to speak of. Nabooru was on the council because she was the king's closest friend—and had been educated in politics alongside him. Ayla was there because she represented the Gerudo army and its generals. The others were there because they represented the labour force, the traders, the thieves, and every other organised trade in the valley.

So why was she here? They'd even set a place for her at the round table. For her. A nobody.

The king was already sitting by the table, surveying them with a neutral expression on his face. He nodded in greeting. "I am glad to see you all here. Please, sit. We have much to discuss, and time is wasting." His eyes landed on Aveil, and his gaze grew a little warmer. "Miss Aveil," he said, welcoming her _specifically_.

That was worrying. She hadn't even been sure if he remembered her from the night all those years ago, when she, Nabooru, and Ayla had ambushed and assassinated Kotake and Koume. She'd done her part, that night, both with her blade and by distracting the king by rousing his court into telling war stories. He'd been pleasant enough that night, but in the weeks that followed he'd been...angry. She nearly shuddered at the memory. Did he still remember that? Was that why she was here today? To be punished? Nabooru had taken the blame, officially, and had been pardoned because of her relationship with the king as well as her political value, but had she secretly sold out her allies in the assassination as well?

"My king," she greeted back nervously, bowing. He made no other comment, waiting until everyone was seated before speaking again.

"I hereby call the twenty-sixth meeting of the Closed Council to order," he announced. "Please note that every council member is present, including one special guest. Nabooru, the itinerary?"

Nabooru, the official council leader, began to read off a long list of the issues that needed to be discussed. It was quite long. Aveil wondered how many hours they would be sitting here, and, again, why she was present. No one had been inclined to educate her on this, not even Nabooru. Ayla had been just as confused as Aveil, and of no help... Aveil could only pray that it wasn't her past actions catching up with her. Common sense told her it couldn't possibly be that, and if King Ganondorf was the vengeful type he would have had all three of the conspirators eliminated quietly, rather than make a big fuss about it.

She wasn't sure for how long she sat there, listening to the droning voices speaking of income reports and war expenses. Quite a while, it felt like, and she had a feeling she nodded off at least once, though Ayla's elbow in her side quickly had her awake again. When Ayla spoke, she kept rapt attention, as army business was, technically, also Aveil's since she was to be a warrior once she came of age.

"...which brings us to the next item on the list," Nabooru said. "Twinrova."

That made Aveil perk up. In the wake of the assassination, a rather distressing series of incidents had plagued the valley. Murders, arsons, sabotage...even attacks upon Hyrulian soil, despite the king ordering any aggressive movements to be halted on the penalty of death. At first, Hylians had been suspected of these attacks, but when the call signs had started appearing—etchings of the Desert Goddess and the words "Twinrova" scrawled upon walls and bodies—the uncomfortable truth had had to be confronted: This was the work of traitors—their own people!

"There was another murder last night," Ganondorf stated. Not that anyone needed reminding. The head had been put on a spike for all to see. "One of my bodyguards. Reyla was her name. They gouged out her eyes and carved the organisation's name into her stomach. She was in a lot of pain before she was granted the mercy of death." His hands, which were resting on the table's surface, clenched until his knuckles turned white. "I cared greatly for her, and I want the ones responsible for this atrocity found."

His voice was so calm, but Aveil could see the fury in his eyes. It was the same anger she'd seen just after his mothers had been killed, but now it was so focused, so utterly clear... It was a frightening sight to behold.

"We are already investigating it," Nabooru said, pretending she wasn't noticing her king's anger. "There are some clues, but...whoever they are, they're good at covering their tracks."

"Increase the bounty," Ganondorf said. "A thousand rupees for any information that leads to the death of Twinrova members. Ten thousand for live captures. Twenty-five thousand for their leaders, alive or dead."

"Noted."

"In the meantime," Ayla said, "we will be increasing the patrols once more. Our warriors are getting exhausted, but that is preferable to them getting killed."

"Which may well happen _because_ of the exhaustion," Ganondorf sighed. "If we don't stop them soon, or at least deal them a blow that slows them down, I fear for the safety of our people at large."

"We'll stop them, my king," Ayla promised. "Everyone makes mistakes. They'll make theirs soon, and when they do we will descend upon them with no mercy. What they did to Reyla will seem like child's play compared to their own fates."

"Good," the king said, nodding. "Next item."

"The continuing peace negotiations with Hyrule," Nabooru said, grimacing slightly.

"Status?"

"At a standstill." She reached for a pile of papers, which seemed to be a series of correspondence between the two kingdoms, from what Aveil could see. "King Rhys wants reparations for the blood spilled and damage caused, an amount that we cannot ever hope to repay, no matter how economically viable the valley and the desert turns out to be."

Ganondorf closed his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose. "And how did they react when you said we cannot pay?"

"His demand still stands," Nabooru said. "For the loss of Hylian blood, he might be willing to negotiate the price. For the Sheikah, however..."

"Always the fucking Sheikah," Ganondorf muttered.

"With respect, my king, nearly wiping them out has not put us in a good light," Nabooru said quietly. "Rhys has always been fond of them. Word has it that he values the opinions of his bodyguard far higher than those of his advisors—it would not surprise me if she has been influencing these negotiations to a higher degree than he would care to admit. It is only natural for her to be...less than willing to agree to a lasting peace with those who killed most of her kin."

"It was not my decisions that put the Sheikah on the battlefield to begin with," Ganondorf said sourly. "That was Rhys' father's doing, as well as his own. He should have seen what was happening long before the blood-eyes' decline even became an issue. I will gladly admit my guilt in the deaths of the Hylian soldiers, but not the Sheikah. They should never have been there in the first place."

"I don't think either of them will see it that way—"

"That is not my problem!"

"It is...but I doubt it will ever come to that, seeing as Rhys refuses to deal with us by courier anymore." Nabooru shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing at Aveil. "The king and I have already discussed this matter privately," she told the council. "King Rhys has demanded the presence of an official representative of our people at his court in Hyrule, with whom he will continue the peace negotiations." She paused, swallowing. "He also demands a hostage."

Every eye landed on Aveil then, who gulped. Next to her, Ayla tensed.

"Out of the question," the warrior growled. "She has done nothing wrong. If the king of Hyrule wants a Gerudo plaything, he'll have to get through me first!"

"I have already agreed to his demand," Ganondorf said, frowning. "Regrettable as it is, King Rhys has all the right to demand this of us, seeing as we were the aggressors in the last series of skirmishes and battles. I have made it clear, however, that Miss Aveil is not to come to harm while under his care."

"An impotent threat," Ayla said with a scowl. "How are you going to prevent that?"

Ganondorf shook his head, looking a little helpless. "It is a sign of goodwill that I send her there—a promise that hostilities will not flare up again since she will be at his mercy. I promised you when this council was formed that I would not be responsible for another drop of Gerudo blood spilled—and I stand by it." He looked directly at Aveil, nodding. "Miss Aveil, I swear to you that I will not undertake any actions that will have harmful repercussions to your person." He drew a dagger from his belt, holding the blade to his open palm. "I shall even swear a blood oath, if that will satisfy—"

"That is not necessary, my king," Aveil exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously. "Please, I believe you. If the king of Hyrule demands a hostage, I will gladly serve as one. Only...I don't know much of Hylian customs, and I fear I will make a fool of myself and our people."

"That will not be an issue," Nabooru said. "You will not be going alone, after all."

"I won't?"

"No, I will be accompanying you as the official ambassador of the Gerudo."

That was a greater comfort than Aveil had expected. Nabooru was strong and wise—surely she could conclude the peace negotiations quickly, which wouldn't require Aveil being a hostage for long. But why had _she_ been chosen? She dared not ask.

"In addition to the honour guard," Nabooru continued, shifting her attention to the king, "I should also like to bring Ayla."

"Why?" Ganondorf asked.

"Because she is one of our finest warriors, and I would feel much safer with her at my side," Nabooru explained smoothly. "We will, after all, be deep in enemy territory. I trust King Rhys to know better than to attack us, but the remaining Sheikah might not be feeling as...charitable. Ayla has fought many Sheikah and lived to tell the tale—she would be an apt protector in that place."

Ayla was giving Nabooru a disdainful look, but the ambassador only smiled back. The king was nodding, contrary to what Aveil had expected him to.

"An excellent point," he said. "Very well, Ayla will go with you. Don't engage the Sheikah unless absolutely necessary, though. We're trying to _end_ a war, after all, not extend it."

"Naturally," Nabooru said, cutting of Ayla's protests with a steely look. "I know I shall feel much safer with her there—and I _know_ she has the restraint necessary for such a high-pressure situation. Fear not, my king, we shan't touch the Sheikah unless they give us a reason to."

"Good." The king rose from his seat, prompting everyone else to do the same. "Unless there is anything else that needs to be discussed, this meeting is officially adjourned. Nabooru, Ayla, Miss Aveil, I would like a word with all of you in private. I believe we have a great deal to talk about."

* * *

The arrival of the Gerudo delegation was met with suspicion and, in certain cases, hostility. It was only thanks to the Royal Army escort that met them at the border that things did not escalate into violence, though said escort did little assist their charges otherwise. The checkpoints delayed the processing of their papers to an unbelievable degree, offering insults and snide looks at every turn. They were refused supplies, the reasoning being they had little enough for themselves as it was (though Aveil could see that their storehouses were full to bursting). Ayla's horse was stolen one night while they were staying at an inn, and no one had seen the crime as it happened, nor were they inclined to assist them with investigating it.

Nabooru's mood continually deteriorated during the journey. She'd known they'd receive a less than warm welcome in Hyrule, but they were here to sue for peace. Surely that meant something? Not in the minds of their escort, apparently, who'd also disarmed the Gerudo delegation as soon as they crossed into Hyrulian territory. To Aveil's surprise it was Ayla who had to calm the ambassador down, not the other way around as she'd anticipated. It grated on her nerves that they were so distrusted, but couldn't bring herself to blame the Hylians either—they were simply taking precautions in regards to the disarmament, and as for the antagonistic natures of those they met...well, chances were they'd lost loved ones in the, admittedly, pointless on-and-off war that had been waged for centuries at this point.

By the time the mighty walls of Castle Town came into view, Aveil had a feeling that the peace negotiations, which Nabooru had hoped to shorten considerably, would never end. This belief was only strengthened when they were taken down the parade street, in full view of the city's inhabitants, rather than the more inconspicuous backstreets and alleys. The public's reaction to the sudden presence of Gerudo in their midst was...unpleasant. It was only the calming hand of Ayla on her shoulder that prevented Nabooru from launching herself at the people who'd started pelting them with rotten fruit and vegetables, and even Ayla's resolve wavered when Aveil was struck right in the face by a tomato.

Only then did their escort take action, their commander barking out orders for everyone to leave the Gerudo alone lest they suffer consequences—though Aveil doubted said consequences would be particularly...consequential. It made the city dwellers back off, however. Resorting to using their voices, the slurs they shouted after the delegation made the hairs on Aveil's neck stand on end.

"Pay them no mind," Ayla said from her place behind Aveil, turning in the saddle to look at Aveil and help her wipe away the tomato residue. "They're afraid of us—that's what makes them act out. They don't know any better."

"I could've done without the fruit," Aveil muttered, gazing down at her clothes, which were spattered with soggy tomato remains. "How can I meet the king like this?"

"With as much dignity as you can muster," Nabooru said, sniffing. "I shall inform King Rhys of this incident, and how the behaviour of his subjects reflects upon his competency as a ruler and just how much we will be willing to concede in the negotiations. We have been at war, but we are still dignitaries and diplomats. If we are not afforded the respect and protection we are entitled to, then he has another century of war to look forward to."

Aveil pretended not to notice the glares the delegation received from their Hylian escorts at that statement. Nabooru was angry, and almost certainly didn't mean what she said (not to mention the fact that the Gerudo absolutely could not afford extending the war), but an example had to be made...and the errant tomato had not improved Aveil's disposition towards the Hylian people. She could only hope that her time as a hostage meant as little interaction with them as possible. Being locked up in a cell would be preferable to remaining at the mercy of the public, though King Ganondorf had assured her that she would be treated well.

The reception in the castle courtyard was a far cry from the one they'd received in the city proper. King Rhys, alongside his daughter Princess Zelda, stood at the castle steps, surrounded by representatives of every Hylian noble House. Immediately behind the king stood a tall, imposing woman with red eyes and dark skin—a Sheikah. The king's personal bodyguard, Aveil surmised. In the same position behind the princess stood a young Sheikah boy—presumably _her_ bodyguard. He was so small...but highly trained, apparently.

"Ambassador Nabooru," King Rhys said as the delegation climbed off their horses, the guards quickly gathering behind their leader. "Welcome to Hyrule."

"It is an honour to be here, Your Majesty," Nabooru replied, bowing. "Though I believe your countrymen feel differently. From the very moment we stepped across the border we have been treated with nothing but contempt. Understandable, I suppose, but I find it quite insulting that the men you sent to escort us did little to stop it. One of our horses was stolen, and Princess Aveil was hit by a particularly errant piece of fruit. We all were, in fact, but she in particular bore the brunt, and..."

Aveil had stopped paying attention around the time Nabooru had referred to her as a princess. What on earth was the ambassador playing at? Aveil didn't know why she in particular had been chosen as the hostage in the first place, but now she was suddenly a princess, with no one telling her? This situation was growing worse by the minute, and she had never grown fond of it to begin with.

Her heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out all other sounds, and her eyes were raking across the gathered crowd. Most of the nobles were looking at them—and her—with looks ranging from disdain to outright hatred. King Rhys' face was growing darker while Nabooru spoke. His Sheikah bodyguard's face remained impassive, though she was clearly studying the Gerudo closely, analysing the threat they posed...as was the Sheikah boy. They looked alike. Were they related? Princess Zelda had a carefully maintained neutral expression—a political mask, as it were.

The only face that was remotely close to welcoming was next to hers, and it belonged to a Hylian girl wearing the finery of a noble, closely tailored to resemble a military outfit. She looked to be Aveil's age, perhaps a little older, and a small smile was on her lips—and it only grew when their eyes met. The Hylian gave a small, imperceptible nod, which Aveil returned. Briefly, the newly announced princess found herself wishing the Hylian girl would remain at the castle. Next to her stood a younger boy that was undeniably her brother—the similarities were too great for him to be otherwise. He, like the princess, kept his face blank, but she didn't see any hostility in his eyes.

"...and with all due respect, I ask that both myself and my retinue be treated with the same respect you would show any other foreign visitors. We are here for the very reason we were invited: to end this war; the treatment we have received thus far have had an opposite effect." Nabooru finished, finishing her speech with another bow. "Or perhaps Your Grace would have us turn around and go back home?"

"Of course not," the king said, face red out of anger and embarrassment. "I gave the order to afford you every bit of respect you deserve, ambassador, though it would seem that my guards saw fit to ignore it, for which I apologise. I assure you that your mistreatment at their hands will have consequences. It is impossible to find those responsible for the barrage of missiles that struck you and the young princess, but I will issue a decree that any hostile action taken towards you or anyone else in your retinue will be severely punished. I hope that your less-than-ideal arrival here will not colour our future talks of peace; I can assure you that I am as tired of this war as your king has expressed in his letters."

"That remains to be seen, Your Grace," Nabooru replied mercilessly. "And as for our escort...I do not see how punishing them will have any positive bearing on their view of us. However, I would rather have a different group escort us back, if I am not overstepping my bounds."

"Not at all, ambassador," the king assured her. His eyes focused on Aveil, and his eyes softened considerably. "And I would like to personally apologise to you, Princess Aveil, for the way you have been treated thus far. I can assure you it will not repeat itself, and that you are as welcome here in my castle as any of my other charges."

Other charges? How many hostages did Rhys _have_?

She could not find her voice. Between the hardships of the road, the hate they'd faced in the streets and the revelation that she was now, apparently, a princess, Aveil had trouble collecting her thoughts for even a single word to escape her mouth. Instead, she settled on giving the king a shy smile and bowing her head, hopefully conveying her acceptance of his apology...though in truth, it was not his fault that their journey had been so difficult, nor their reception so hostile.

"Well, given the circumstances, I believe introductions to my court can be postponed," Rhys continued. "This is my daughter, Zelda," he said, indicating the young princess. "And these are Lady Akia and Lord Kerran of House Rinir, my wards."

The Hylian girl—Akia—and her brother—Kerran—both bowed, and Aveil found herself happy that they would likely remain in the castle. Akia, in particular. She seemed friendly.

"And, of course, this is my bodyguard, Mistress Iana of the Sheikah, and her son Master Sheik of the Sheikah," Rhys continued, introducing his and his daughter's bodyguards, respectively. "I am aware of the particular tension between your two peoples, but I ask all parties to control themselves should tensions run high." He seemed to aim that sentence in particular towards Mistress Iana, who did not respond in any particular manner.

"My retinue has also been warned as such, Your Grace," Nabooru replied. "Our previous quarrels with the illustrious Sheikah people will not have any bearing on our stay here, I assure you." She looked to Aveil, then, eyes softening a fraction. "Allow me to introduce Princess Aveil of the Gerudo—daughter of King Ganondorf. She will be in your care until peace once again reigns between our two kingdoms. This is Ayla, my bodyguard."

Once again Aveil's hearing became non-existent. Not only was she a princess now, but King Ganondorf's _daughter_?

What the _fuck_ was going on?!

* * *

"I'm sorry," Nabooru said immediately once they were alone in her quarters. Aveil would be staying in private chambers close to those of the king and princess, but she'd followed Nabooru to hers under the pretence of catching up on Hylian customs. "We couldn't tell you until now."

"Why not?" Aveil demanded, feeling an urge to sock Nabooru right in the mouth. "This strikes me as something I should have been informed of during the meeting before we even left the valley!"

"Keep your voice down," Ayla said quietly. "We don't know who might be listening."

"I don't care!" Aveil exclaimed. "I'm a princess now, apparently, so I can do whatever the hell I want!"

"Be quiet," Nabooru growled, yanking Aveil away from the door and forcing her to sit on the bed. It was quite soft—and the chambers large. Fitting for an ambassador, she supposed. "Look, we didn't tell you about this because we knew how you'd react. Believe me when I say that this was the last thing I wanted, but this deception is necessary!"

"Why?"

"Do you really think Rhys would consider you a valuable hostage?" Ayla asked, staying in her spot by the door, as if expecting enemy soldiers to come storming through at any moment. "Extraordinary as you are, Av, you're about as common as muck. Worthless in the grand scheme of things, really."

"Is this your idea of comfort?" Aveil asked.

"Just trying to make you see the reality," the warrior offered unhelpfully.

"If I'm such a worthless hostage, why didn't the king send _you_, then?" Aveil asked, turning to Nabooru.

"Because a hostage can't negotiate on the behalf of a king," Nabooru said. "There is an inherent weakness, being in that position."

"Does the king even know what you're passing me off as?"

"Of course," Nabooru said, frowning. "He...just doesn't know that you weren't in on the plan the whole time." She held up her hand to cut Aveil off. "Look, this is for your protection. You could have refused to be a hostage, and Ganondorf would have found someone else to pass off as his daughter, but I needed to get you away from the valley."

"Why?"

"Because Twinrova is trying to kill you, for the part you played in the assassination of Kotake and Koume. Someone, I don't know how, have found out that the three of us were responsible. Our names were found on a list, alongside those of several targets that have already been eliminated. Reyla was one of them. For what reason she in particular was chosen, I do not know. Perhaps as an example. It doesn't matter. All I know is that you and Ayla were at risk, and I had to find a way to keep you safe. That's why I wanted you along, ostensibly to protect me," she said, nodding to Ayla, who grunted. "It was the king's idea to send his 'daughter' as a hostage. He doesn't know about your involvement in his mothers' deaths, but I'd rather he not find out either."

"Did you know this?" Aveil asked Ayla, who shook her head.

"Our dear ambassador did not see fit to inform me of either the list nor of your meteoric rise in rank until we were well beyond the border," Ayla said sourly. "By then it was too late for me to protest." She glared at Nabooru. "This isn't right—I should be back home, helping our warriors root out Twinrova and exterminate them!"

"And suffer the same fate as Reyla?" Nabooru countered. "I realise I have acted less than honourably, but I'd rather not lose the woman I consider my dearest friend to assassins. Nor would I put Aveil at risk for having participated in an act that will, in the end, be our people's salvation." She looked at them both with a grave expression. "It will take some time to earn back your trust—this I know. But please, do not doubt my intentions. I am here to negotiate a peace—after that, we will go home. The king, in the meantime, will deal with the threat posed by Twinrova." She looked at Aveil, smiling softly. "And in the meantime, King Rhys will treat you as his ward. You will be educated alongside Princess Zelda and the Lord and Lady Rinir. It will be a valuable experience for you and, dare I say it, fun."

"Unless one of the guards here see fit to put a dagger between her ribs," Ayla said.

"Rhys isn't stupid enough to allow that to happen," Nabooru replied. "As far as he knows, Aveil is truly King Ganondorf's daughter, and will do everything in his power to keep her safe to ensure a lasting peace and friendship can be forged between Hyrule and the Gerudo." She sighed. "It's damn mess, I know, but we will simply have to make the best of it. Now, I suggest the two of you freshen up and change into your finery."

"Why?" Aveil asked. "We just arrived."

"Exactly, and we are therefore about to face something I have dreaded from the moment I was chosen to be a diplomat."

"And what is that?" Ayla asked.

Nabooru's face grew pale and her eyes wide, a shudder tearing through her like she was staring Death in the face. "The welcoming ball," she whispered with absolute dread.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**I wanted this chapter to be longer, but Black Sails has been distracting me all day. Sorry about that! Also, I have made up a timeline for this AU—from now on, I will be listing what year it is in each chapter, along with trio's ages. Hopefully that will make the chronology easier to follow.**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	12. XII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XII**

* * *

**1056**

* * *

The stables were unusually quiet that night, as if the horses knew that something was wrong, out of place. The door slid open, and a shadow slipped through the narrow crack, quickly closing it. Then it crouched in the dark, waiting. Listening. It calmed its breathing, syncing it up with those of the dozen or so horses that occupied each booth, trying to identify a possible foreign presence.

There was none.

The shadow released the breath it was holding, and stood up. Quietly, it crept around the large room and gathered two saddles and sets of reins, along with saddlebags and everything else required for a long journey. It paused when there was a shout outside—a loud conversation between two watchmen. Nothing seen, nothing heard. All was clear. The shadow relaxed, and continued gathering the things it needed.

It crept into three of the booths, saddling and gearing up two familiar mounts, and preparing another as a packhorse. Once this was accomplished, it crept back to the door, opening it a crack and glancing out. The torches outside burned brightly, but the area they illuminated was small. With due haste, none would know what was transpiring before it was far too late for anyone to be chased. There was a deeply drawn breath—the shadow was steeling itself.

Another shadow decided its moment had come. A matchstick flared up, lighting an oil lantern at the very back of the stable. The first shadow froze at the sound and sudden eruption of light behind it.

"Going somewhere?" the second asked in a drawl.

"Iana," the first shadow said, turning around, revealing his face. His face was set in a frown, red eyes wide with panic. "I...I can explain this—"

"You're running away," Iana said, cutting right to the chase. "Two mounts and one packhorse, undoubtedly to be loaded down with everything a mother and a father need to feed and clothe a child on the road. You don't want to be seen or heard, so you do it in the middle of the night, knowing that if you were caught..." She left the sentence hanging.

"We're dead," he finished.

"Desertion is seen as an act of treason, to which the only punishment is death," Iana said, nodding. She was leaning a thick beam, her arms crossed. It was a non-threatening pose that nonetheless conveyed that she was utterly in control of the situation. "Given our current crisis, population-wise, a compromise might have been reached had you approached the clan leader first...but seeing as our clan leader is, for the moment, trying to contain a rebellion..."

"No compromise," he finished once more. "Impa will never forgive us for this." His hand rested on a dagger in his belt, hidden beneath a heavy, nondescript travelling cloak. "No matter what action we take now, we're dead. We stay, we die because of the war. We try to leave, Impa has us executed for treason. There is one option—"

"But we both know you're not strong enough to take it," Iana said, her eyes deliberately landing on the spot where his hand was fiddling with the handle of his dagger. "You're not fast enough. You draw that dagger, it's another act of treason, and one I am forced to respond to with due force. I have a crossbow here, hidden beneath the blanket. You can throw the dagger, and probably hit me, but you will not reach me fast enough to stop me from loosing a bolt at you. You can charge at me, and take a bolt to the face. I can go easy on you, and not use the crossbow at all, but we both know that once our blades meet, only one of us is walking out of the stables alive...and it won't be you." She remained unmoving. "Had I been anyone else except my sister, you might have had a chance...don't do anything stupid, Ailen. For the sake of your child."

"Then what do I do?" Ailen asked, his mask cracking just a little. "I will not have my son be an orphan! We can't stay!"

"No, you can't," Iana replied, shaking her head. "Which is why you're lucky I'm _not_ my sister...or anyone else."

He paused, the mask completely cracking with disbelief. "You...I don't understand..."

"I am not a monster, Ailen. Nor is my sister. Had Father still been alive...she would have been in my position. But she has responsibilities now—responsibilities to our people. She is bound by duty to dole out harsh punishments wherever she sees necessary." She shrugged. "I, however, am not. Which is why, when your absence becomes apparent, I intend to tell them you're going north—to the Ashlands."

Ailen looked at her dubiously. "We're not going north," he said.

"Certainly looked that way to me when I spotted you leaving in the night and gave chase, only to lose track of you when you left the road," Iana replied. "The route took us too close to the front, and I was hesitant to give chase in my current...condition."

Ailen didn't look convinced. "Why? Why would you help us?"

Iana's expression softened, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "Because I, too, do not want Kafei to grow up an orphan. The same way I don't want my..." she paused, resting her hand on her stomach. It had yet to grow, but the signs were there.

He gasped. "You...you are with child?"

"Confirmed it this morning," she said, nodding. "Decided to delay the news until Alre gets back from the front. He should be there when it's announced."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you." Iana glanced at her lantern. "You're losing precious time and darkness," she said. "Once you leave the village, I will wait fifteen minutes, and also head out. When I deem you've had enough of a head start, I will return and raise a ruckus. With luck, no one will think you're heading south."

"How did—"

"It made the most sense, which is why my explanation for the northern route will have to be convincing." A bell rang, the signal for midnight. Another half hour, and the guards would change. "I won't repeat myself, Ailen. Get going." When the Sheikah did not move, she scowled. "What, do I have to saddle the fucking horses for you?"

That got him moving, and soon enough two of the horses were saddled, and the third loaded with bags.

"We will purchase supplies in the first village outside the kingdom," he explained as he worked. "Don't know where our final destination is...perhaps—"

"Do not tell me—the less I know, the better," she interrupted him, fastening the last buckle. "I will do my best to discourage searches in that direction. As soon as you cross the border, I cannot help you. You will be on your own. If you need a place to rest and prepare for the rest of your journey, I suggest stopping in Termina, but do not linger. Impa will surely send scouts in all directions, but hopefully not too far. There are precious few of us as it is, and she can't risk losing them to Gerudo ambushes. Speaking of which..." she hesitated.

"We will be careful, I promise."

Without warning, she drew him into a tight hug and then touched her forehead to his.

"Be careful, cousin," she said. "All of you."

"We will be, cousin."

It was a distant cousinhood, separated by at least three branches, but with the Sheikah's dwindling numbers family took on a new meaning—and familial relationships became far too precious to allow distance to ruin them.

"If it's not too much trouble," Iana said as they separated, "I would like some sort of indication that you're safely away. Not necessarily immediately...but in due time."

"I will try," Ailen promised. "...we're losing time."

"Then go. Give Meria my love."

"I promise."

She watched him quickly lead the horses away into a dark corner of Kakariko Village as she saddled her own horse. There was movement in the darkness, but she only kept half an eye on it. Then she heard the three pairs of hoof beats, and the cut-off warning cry of a guard as he was knocked aside. Iana cursed, mounting her horse and spurring her on after them.

The guard lay groaning on the ground, and Iana made a show of looking down at him with concern (he looked fine, only confused and shocked). "Where did they go?!" she demanded.

"Through the gates," he replied, pointing in its direction. "I'll sound the alarm—"

"Don't, I'll handle this on my own!"

"But, mistress—"

"Don't argue, if this reaches the rest of the clan we'll have a true rebellion on our hands. Is that what you want?"

"N-No—"

"Good! If I'm not back within twenty minutes, _then_ you may sound the alarm. Is that understood?"

"Yes, but please be caref—"

She didn't wait for him to finish, flying through the gate at breakneck speed. She already knew which way Ailen and his wife, Meria, would be heading with their young son, Kafei, which was why she headed in practically the opposite direction. Luckily it had not rained for a while, which meant their tracks (along with Iana's) would not be very obvious among the thousands of other tracks on the dry, dusty road. Hopefully, her word would mean enough for the scouts Impa would surely send out to not search too thoroughly to the south.

She could never leave Hyrule like this, she knew. Ailen and Meria...they weren't important in the grand scheme of things. She was. Daughter of the previous clan leader and younger sister of the current one. Her child, be it a boy or girl, would never have the chance at a normal life like Kafei now did—but she was not bitter. She simply wanted her cousin and his family to be free. It would be her one act of true kindness in her life, the one thing she could cling to upon her death to prove to herself that not everything she did was kill.

She could only hope that by the time her little one arrived, their respective kings would have come to their senses and ended the ridiculous war, so that her child—not to mention Rhys' daughter, would lead peaceful lives and never have to know the barbarity of knowingly causing someone's death.

Experience told her that neither of them would have that chance, but she had to hope.

For all their sakes.

* * *

She got back to the village just in time to raise the alarm herself, rather than wait for the knocked-down guard to do it. It would be more credible that way, she hoped, and take some of the heat off him. The reaction was instant, and Impa did indeed send out scouts in every direction, though most heavily to the north.

"We will trap them between us and the front," Impa announced, geared up to lead the search effort herself. Looking down at Iana from her mount, she frowned. "Get inside and stay there," she ordered. "You've done enough."

Impa knew Iana was expecting. She was the only one who did. So far, there was no indication that she knew her little sister had had a hand in their cousin's escape.

Iana obeyed, returning to the house they had, up until recently, shared with their father and Alre. It was only the three of them, now. It felt...empty these days. Lifeless. Too quiet. Hopefully, the little one would liven it up when he or she was born.

* * *

"I've recalled Alre from the front," Impa announced a few days later, after a strategy meeting. "The line has moved forward. The army will be able to do without him for a little while. It's time he knew he's going to be a father."

"He'll be terrified," Iana said, smiling at the memory of her husband's face on their wedding night. He'd been so nervous, the poor thing. Big and strong, he was, but confronted with her divested of everything, he'd been...small. Cute. She could only imagine his face upon being told _this_ piece of news. It'd do him good, knowing he'd have a little one to care for. Would certainly make him act more carefully in battle.

"Of course he will be," Impa said. "He's a man. Children terrify them." She folded the last report she'd been reading and stood up from her crossed-legged position on the carpeted floor, watching her sister like a hawk. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Iana said, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"No unusual pain? Nausea?"

"Not since this morning."

"Good." Impa crouched in front of the sofa Iana was lying on, staring into her younger sister's eyes with a serious expression. "They went south, didn't they? Into Termina?"

Damn. She'd hoped it would take Impa longer to figure it out...but there was a reason why the leadership had been passed to her immediately upon their father's passing, rather than leave the matter of succession to a vote. Impa was the best of them. There was no keeping secrets from her for long.

Iana nodded, figuring that attempting to prolong the lie wouldn't help. "I don't know if they went to Termina, only that they were heading south." She eyed her leader. "They got away?"

"Recalled the last scout this morning. The drought and wind have made it impossible to follow their tracks." Impa bit her lip, looking thoughtful. "I would have killed them, you know. To make an example. Prevent more desertions."

"I know. That's why I helped them."

"Does anyone else know?"

"You, me, Ailen, Meria...and Kafei, I suppose."

"Then let us keep it that way."

"You will let them go?"

"I don't have the spare resources or manpower to hunt them across the border," Impa said with a sigh, gently placing a hand on Iana's stomach. "And I have a niece or nephew to protect now. My efforts are better spent ensuring that those who still remain do not leave as well."

Iana placed her hand on Impa's. "Thank you."

"Don't put me in this position again. I cannot protect you forever."

"I won't."

"Good."

_To be continued…_

* * *

**And there we have the story behind Kafei's escape in this continuity!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	13. XIII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XIII**

* * *

**1071 - Sheik is thirteen, Link and Zelda are fourteen**

* * *

"Well?"

Rhys' face was a stony mask, his lips a thin line as he regarded Iana from behind his desk. A light breeze was blowing in through the open window, and Iana pointedly closed it before speaking.

"I'm not convinced," she replied, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. Kazuya's sheath thumped against the stone—she'd never removed it from her belt. As long as the Gerudo remained at Hyrule Castle, it would remain within arm's reach at all times. She would not get caught off-guard again.

"Evidence?" the king asked.

"I have never heard of a daughter," she said, searching her mind for any piece of information that hinted at Ganondorf having procreated, and finding none. "At least, _our_ networks certainly never heard of it—and if we haven't, then no one else have either. So, we're left with two options."

"The girl has been kept hidden to protect her," Rhys said.

"Or they're lying and trying to play us for fools," Iana finished. "Given their past history, and the girl's obvious shock at her own announcement..."

"I agree," Rhys said, nodding. "If she was important enough to be kept hidden for so long, Ganondorf would _never_ have agreed to send her here as a hostage." He sighed. "So, young Princess Aveil isn't a princess at all. Truthfully, I was expecting him to send Ambassador Nabooru instead."

"She's as good as his sister," Iana reminded him. "He would never trust us with her wellbeing. So, we're faced with a decision: do we expose the truth and expel the Gerudo for this affront, setting back the peace negotiations for Goddesses know how long, or do we go along with it for now, but keep an eye open for possible treachery?"

"Difficult decision," the king muttered. "On one hand, this is hardly a good way to start the negotiations. I was prepared to fully believe that Ganondorf has come to his senses at last, but now..." He pursed his lips, staring down at the piece of paper in front of him. It was one of the many pieces of correspondence between the two kings. The Gerudo king's words had seemed genuine, but with the day's revelation they were suddenly very difficult to believe. "On the other, this war cannot continue. The price is too high already."

Iana nodded, keeping silent. She had no intention of influencing his decision on this. On his questionable fashion choices, absolutely, but not diplomacy that would shape the future of both nations.

He looked at her, finding no help there. "Perhaps I should call a council meeting..."

"I would not advise it," she said curtly.

"What? Why not?"

"They have...interests. For planning and developing trade routes and asking for favours that will end up making people a lot of money, you cannot find a better group of advisors. However, this is a matter that should be left entirely up to you, in your capacity as ruler. You're supposed to act in the best interests of your people, not the merchants' wallets."

"And you? What do you think?"

"I hate the Gerudo," she said simply. "I cannot remain impartial about this—nor should you be listening to my opinion. I am but a bodyguard, after all."

He gave her a sour look. "Only because you keep insisting on it. If you'd let me, I could have you raised—"

"I don't _want_ to be raised, thank you very much. This position suits me fine. Don't try to change the subject—this is a decision that needs to be made _now_, before they get settled."

"You want me to toss them out, don't you?"

"Their presence makes me uneasy."

Rhys grimaced. That was about all he was going to get out of her, it would seem. "Thank you for being so helpful," he said sarcastically.

"I aim to please."

The king took several minutes then, eyes focused on nothing in particular as he thought through his options and their possible ramifications. The easiest (and likely the safest) option was to simply tell the Gerudo delegation to leave and tell them to come back when they were prepared to meet Hyrule with nothing but honesty. It would be unpleasant, and Ganondorf would probably play the wounded party and use it as an excuse to continue hostilities for another few years—leaving Rhys looking the fool. He'd met the desert king only once, a few years before Rhys' father had passed and left the throne to his son. Rhys had been frightened of the dark-skinned young man, whose golden eyes blazed with determination and zeal. He'd broken off the meeting with the old king, announcing that only the utter destruction of Hyrule would leave him satisfied.

But something had happened, and the Ganondorf with whom Rhys had corresponded these past few years seemed very different. Ganondorf had claimed as much himself—that he'd fallen under the sway of corrupt advisors of his own, who had fuelled the anger he'd felt as a young man. That fire had calmed since then, and now that the corrupted individuals around had been removed, he claimed to see clearly for the first time in years—and with that clarity came the revelation that his people would not survive the war for much longer.

That was why Rhys hesitated with his decision. Hyrule, too, had been weakened by the war with the Gerudo, but they were in far better shape than their neighbours to the west. Hyrule would not break from the war, that much was certain. But did he want the Gerudo to? When the negotiations first began, he'd envisioned a lasting peace that would perhaps culminate in a strong alliance, leaving the future of the two nations shining brightly. The vision had come crashing down upon the realisation that Princess Aveil was a fraud...but he could see why Ganondorf would resort to this. He wanted peace, but would not risk Nabooru as a hostage, rather putting her in the position as ambassador where she could be most effective. Who else was valuable enough as a hostage? Rhys could not think of a single prominent general or other sort of leader within the Gerudo power structure, and the king couldn't bloody well be a hostage either, so...

His thoughts landed on the young girl, Aveil, whose eyes had practically popped out of her skull upon her announcement. Rhys had thought she'd faint and fall off her horse, but she'd quickly reined herself in with some help from her bodyguard (Ayla, was it?). Why hadn't she been informed, Rhys wondered...

Perhaps there was more at play here than simply a botched attempt at passing the girl off as a princess? That was even more dangerous...but also tantalisingly intriguing. But his own interests couldn't come before that of the realm, of course, so he quickly struck down his curiosity, and focused on the core issue.

Expulsion and war, or careful observation with the possibility of a permanent peace agreement?

There had been enough war. Rhys couldn't remember a time in his life where he knew for certain that Hyrule was utterly safe. His father had failed at securing that safety—he would not be like his father.

"Keep a close eye on them," he said, looking up at Iana. "We allow this farce to continue for now, but at the first sign of a slip-up, we confront them with the truth. What happens then...well, we'll see. In the meantime, I want security tripled, and—"

"I will ensure Sheik is with the princess at all times," Iana said, anticipating what he was going to say with a nod.

"I'm not saying this because he is a Sheikah—"

"But because they are friends and will look out for each other," Iana finished once more, clearly suppressing a grin. "I'll ensure the Rinirs know to do the same. With luck, all four of them will keep each other safe."

Rhys glared at her. "Just for once, I'd like you to—"

"Stop finishing your sentences," Iana continued once more, the grin breaking out for real this time. "My apologies. I will stop as soon as your face stops giving away everything you're about to say."

Rhys' eyes narrowed. "Why is it that you always manage to get under my skin?" he asked.

"It's a gift."

His face grew serious, and he fixed her with an intense gaze. "Are you fine with this? I'm not only endangering myself by allowing the Gerudo to stay. I'm putting you and your son at risk as well."

His former bodyguard shook her head. "Sheik and I can handle ourselves. I know their tricks, and I've ensured he does as well. If the thieves try anything, we'll be there to stop them immediately. Have no fear, Your Grace—you and your daughter are quite safe."

"It's not about me—"

"I know." She pushed away from the wall and headed for the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, there are guard schedules that need to be changed. I recommend we quadruple security for now, just to be certain."

"Sure."

"I will be back when I have finished."

Rhys cleared his throat rather loudly, making her pause and turn back to him. The king was leaning forward in his chair, a rather expectant look on his face. "Is there not something you've forgotten?" he asked cheekily.

Iana felt her cheeks burn (quite unseemly for a woman her age, in her opinion) and approached the desk. Bending forward, she planted a short and chaste kiss on the king's lips, ignoring the way his happy grin made her want to grin like an idiot right back at him. He really looked like a puppy sometimes, much like her son did when the youngest Rinir was nearby. She'd have to deal with that at some point soon, she noted.

"We made a deal, remember?" Rhys said, giving her a kiss of his own. "As long as it's not in public—"

"I know, I know," she replied, trying to force the blood out of her cheeks by sheer force of will. "Surely there are more important things to worry about at the moment, though?"

"Never. I want my Sheikah kisses."

The bloody nerve of the man. If he weren't her king, she'd slap him upside the head for his cheek.

"Especially in the mornings."

Bugger propriety.

"Ow!"

"Be glad that is all I've time for. Now, those guard schedules—"

"Oh dear, will I be _punished_ later?" Some lessons simply would not sink in, it seemed. "Ow! Ow! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Hmph!"

* * *

Outside the study door Sheik paused, his hand raised halfway in an attempt to knock. He hadn't meant to listen, really, but he couldn't help that his mother had insisted on training his hearing to the point where even the thick door didn't pose much of a challenge. The guards on either side of the door hadn't seemed to hear it, luckily, and were gazing at him with raised eyebrows.

_Goddesses,_ he thought, quickly walking away as a look of disgust came to his face. _Of all the..._

He stepped into the parlour where Zelda, Link, and Akia were having tea. He tried to hide his perturbed state, but failed miserably.

"Sheik, what's wrong?" Link was at his side in an instant, looking worried.

It wasn't a secret among their little group. The signs had been obvious. There'd been no objections, either. They were adults, after all, so whatever they got up to on their own time was hardly any of the quartet's business. But this...

Allowing the youngest Rinir to gently help him into his seat on the sofa next to the princess, he stared glumly at the cup of steaming hot tea that was placed in front of him. He'd only meant to invite the two to join them, but...

"Sheiky, what happened?" Zelda asked.

He looked up at the three of them with an ashen face, his lips tight. These were the only people apart from his mother he fully trusted with his life—and even then it was hard enough to get the words out. The very image of it was...awful. He took a shaky breath.

"Something horrible," he whispered, the shock setting in.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Poor, traumatised Sheiky... XD**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	14. XIV

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XIV**

* * *

**1071 - Sheik is thirteen, Link and Zelda are fourteen**

* * *

"Stop that," Zelda said sharply, tugging Link's hands away from his cravat, preventing him from tearing it apart. "You'll rip it!"

"I feel like I'm choking," Link protested, growling when the princess slapped his hands away once more. "Whoever invented these things was a sadist! Why does it have to be so tight?"

"Otherwise it'll droop and make you look like a clown," Sheik said calmly from his place by the door. He too was wearing his finery, though luckily his dress uniform, as it were, did not include any of the annoyingly unnecessary frippery that was all too common in noble fashion. His uniform was practically spartan compared to Link's fancy gold embroidery and tights. The youngest Rinir was lucky the king's tailor hadn't decided to add a codpiece, which was apparently making a comeback.

No, Sheik's uniform was just that—a uniform. Dark blue, military-styled with dark red details. It was specifically made to be easy to fight in as well as look presentable at occasions like the welcoming ball. Not that he expected there to be any fighting (his mother had specifically forbidden him from even interacting with the Gerudo without Zelda there to prevent any "misunderstandings", as she put it), but he was glad he wouldn't be hamstrung by an overly flashy outfit...unlike Link.

"_You_ look like a clown," Link retorted, but it had little effect, eliciting only a small chortle from the Sheikah.

"He has a point," Akia said, looking bored by Sheik's side. "The cravat _does_ look ridiculous if it's not fastened properly. Then again, when it's attached to _you_, brother mine, perhaps even that won't help."

"Come here and say that, I dare you."

"No, I'm fine watching the clown from here."

"You—"

"Hold still!" Zelda ordered, effortlessly holding Link in place, despite him outweighing her by quite a bit now that he was growing stronger thanks to Iana's strength training regime. It was all in the gaze, Sheik knew. One glare from Zelda, and a raging bull would halt in its tracks. She finished adjusting the ridiculous piece of fabric hanging from Link's neck and stepped back, looking pleased. "There we are...oh..."

"What?" Link asked.

"It's tied correctly but...Aki, you're right. It really doesn't matter when it's _Link_..."

"That's it!"

The youngest Rinir imminent assault on the other three was halted by a knock on the door, followed by the king and Iana entering the small parlour. Rhys was dressed in his finest robes, and his circlet was like a halo of gold around his head. He'd trimmed his beard to a shorter, yet respectable length, which made him look younger than usual. His sword was at his side, a firm reminder that they were welcoming the ambassadors of an (for now) enemy kingdom, rather than long-time allies. He looked like the very definition of a king—strong and powerful, yet approachable.

Iana was dressed in a uniform identical to Sheik's, though hers had a few extra flourishes (such as the Sheikah eye on her sleeve) to mark her as the clan leader. Kazuya hung in its scabbard on her belt, and Sheik knew she had at least three other blades secreted on her person, just like him. Her hair was immaculately braided into a ponytail, leaving but a single lock that reached down to her left eye free. She'd applied some sort of powder to the skin around her eyes, leaving it a little darker. It brought out the red in her eyes and made her look fierce. There could be no doubt as to what purpose hers was in all this.

"Ah, you're all ready, I see," Rhys said, smiling at them in turn after giving them a once-over. "I see you decided to forego the dress, Akia?"

"It did not feel right, Your Grace," Akia replied evenly, looking apologetic. "It was a beautiful dress, but perhaps better suited for someone else."

The eldest Rinir was dressed in an outfit similar to Link's, though with a few more concession in the name of femininity (which she loathed). She had never felt comfortable in the heavy dresses worn by nobility, always feeling more at home in the outfits she wore during training exercises and such. It had been a point of contention between the nobles and Rhys at first—it was unseemly for a young woman like Akia to be wearing trousers and shirts instead of corsets and all other manners of ridiculously pompous garments. Rhys had listened to their complaints, gone to Akia, and then told her she was to wear whatever she liked. That had been the end of it.

"I think she looks beautiful anyway," Zelda protested, crossing her arms. She herself was wearing a resplendent dress in the royal colours. She was the princess of the realm—she had to match the ostentatiousness of her father...though Sheik had a suspicion that Rhys would cave in to his daughter if she too demanded to wear a simpler outfit like Akia.

"Her suitors won't be happy," Iana stated, though her tone revealed neither approval nor disapproval at the eldest Rinir choice in clothing. Sheik had a suspicion she approved—she had certainly never lectured the young noble on the propriety of one's outward appearance and the importance of attracting a future husband.

"Good," Link said, grimacing. "If they're afraid of her because they can actually see that she has legs, they're not good enough anyway."

"They're actually afraid she'll break their noses like she did with the oldest Layr boy," Rhys said, chuckling at the memory and, possibly, the fact that every time members of House Layr came to the castle, at least one of them left with a bruise or bleeding nose. "But you make a good point, Kerran. A little fear is only healthy, but for something so insignificant..."

It was subtle, but not so subtle that the kids didn't notice it when the king and his bodyguard exchanged a glance loaded with..._something_ that made Sheik's stomach roil. Judging by Zelda's face, she wasn't all that happy about whatever was going on between them either. His eyes met hers, and they silently agreed that _something_ had to be done about it.

"Now," Rhys continued, clapping his hands twice. "I don't have to remind you how important this ball is. I cannot stress enough the value of getting on well with our guests from the west. We all have a complicated history with them, but this is the best chance we've had of making peace in centuries. It all starts here, and I want you to be on your best behaviours. Is that understood?"

The four of them nodded. Iana rolled her eyes when Rhys looked at her as well, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"I won't kill anyone, I swear," she said. "Even _I_ know that killing an ambassador isn't conducive to a peaceful negotiation."

He smiled at her joke, but Sheik was somewhat worried about his mother and how she would act around the Gerudo. He'd been but a babe during the worst of the hostilities, and had only learned about it from the stories she and the king sometimes told them. He knew the Gerudo were a big part of the reason for why the Sheikah had nearly been completely wiped out, and were responsible for the deaths of his father and aunt... He'd never forgive them for that, but he also knew better than to let that anger ruin what was a unique chance. It was easy for him to set that hatred aside because he had never met his father, Alre, or his aunt, Impa. He was unsure if his mother could do the same.

He would simply have to keep an eye on her, just in case, all the while ensuring that Zelda was safe. The Hylian princess been intrigued by the Gerudo princess, Aveil, and desperately wanted to talk to her, and he just _knew_ that would most likely cause trouble with her guards.

* * *

It was an...interesting occasion. An inexperienced onlooker would see what appeared to be a normal ball or party, with the nobles swarming everywhere and congratulating each other on inheriting everything that made them what they were. Several lords approached the king with their sons, somehow believing themselves the models of surreptitiousness, subtly implying (or, in Lord Layr's case) outright saying that their spawn was the best fit for the young princess Zelda. After all, wasn't she a little old to not be engaged?

Indeed, to someone who was unused to these things, everything appeared normal. Sheik, however, saw how the flow of pompous nobles carefully avoided stepping close to the Gerudo delegation, which had sequestered themselves to the side of the hall, close to the dance floor. The nobles probably told themselves they were being respectful and giving the Gerudo their space, but it was obvious they avoided them out of fear or hatred.

The Gerudo didn't look particularly comfortable either. They certainly stood out among the rest of the crowd, their outfits clashing with the Hylian nobles' in both colours and form. Regardless of the different climates, they dressed lightly, with thin fabrics. They wore veils that covered the lower halves of their faces—though only partially, leaving the vague lines of their faces just barely visible. Apparently it was to tantalise and distract whomever they were speaking to. Sheik found himself wishing he had a cowl, but his mother had said no. They would not show fear to the enemy, which meant not hiding their faces.

Ambassador Nabooru and Princess Aveil were covered in jewels and gold—large gems prominently displayed on their foreheads. It was how their ancient desert goddess appeared on artwork and such. He didn't know if it was a sign of tribute or an imitation. It probably didn't matter.

"Come on, come on," Zelda whispered excitedly, tugging on his arm and pulling him towards the delegation. "I want to talk to her!"

Sheik didn't protest, letting himself be steered towards the target. It was unavoidable, he knew, and dreaded every moment leading up to it. He could only hope the Gerudo wouldn't be confrontational...or that his mother wouldn't see him talking to them and draw erroneous conclusions. He probably wouldn't even be speaking—he was only a bodyguard, after all.

The honour guard tightened noticeably around Nabooru and their princess when they saw the two of them approaching. Or, rather, when they saw _Sheik_ approaching. The scimitars strapped to their backs looked intimidating, but none were reaching for their arms just yet, luckily.

Nabooru stepped out from the throng, her eyes sweeping over the two of them before bowing deeply. "Your Grace," she said. "You honour us with your presence."

"Ambassador," Zelda greeted in return, curtsying. "Perhaps it is I who should be saying that. I am told it has been centuries since one of your people last set foot in this castle...though perhaps not out of choice."

Nabooru chuckled. "I would say circumstances have not been accommodating for our kind—though we have not particularly earned that right either. Nevertheless, the time has finally come for peace...or so we hope."

"As do we," Zelda replied, looking at Sheik. "Ambassador, allow me to introduce Sheik, my best friend and confidante."

Sheik bowed. "Ambassador," he greeted.

"Master Sheik," Nabooru said, bowing as well. "It is a pleasure to meet you. With these negotiations, I hope that our two peoples can finally bury the hatchet—there is much we can learn from each other."

_There are two left of us,_ Sheik thought, maintaining a neutral expression. _Burying the hatchet won't really change that._

"Indeed, that would be most agreeable, Ambassador," he replied. "Though I believe the clan leader would not approve of teaching outsiders our techniques."

"I am hoping to speak with Mistress Iana at a later point this evening," Nabooru continued, politely ignoring the rebuke. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to introduce us?"

"Naturally."

"Thank you."

Nabooru looked at Zelda, who was doing her best to crane her neck to look at the Gerudo princess without actually looking like she was doing so. She was failing miserably. Nabooru's mouth twitched behind her veil in what Sheik assumed to be a smile.

"Ah, forgive me my rudeness, Your Grace," she said. "Allow me to introduce Her Majesty Princess Aveil of the Gerudo." She turned and placed a gentle hand on Aveil's shoulder, bringing her forward. "Aveil, this is Princess Zelda of Hyrule and her protector, Master Sheik."

"A-A pleasure to meet you," Aveil said, curtsying. It was a wooden movement. To Sheik's eyes, it looked unpractised, as if she had never done it before in her life. It made sense, really. The Gerudo in general did not curtsy. However, surely King Ganondorf's daughter would be trained and well-versed in foreign customs like this? "Princess Zelda, Master Sheik."

She seemed nervous, but Zelda paid it no mind, her eyes practically sparkling as she immediately assaulted Aveil with question after question (a disturbing amount of them pertained to the scimitar at her side). Sheik could only watch in guarded amusement, noting that the Gerudo princess' bodyguard was watching the exchange with the exact same expression as his. Their eyes met, and despite the enmity between their races, both felt a certain kinship at that moment.

_The things we suffer for them,_ Sheik thought, giving the bodyguard (Ayla, he believed her name was) a small nod, which she returned.

* * *

"Zelda is speaking with the _princess_," Iana murmured, her eyes glued to Zelda and her son's backs, watching the proceedings carefully.

"Good," Rhys murmured back, nodding politely to a passing lord whose name he'd never been able to remember. "Let them break the ice."

"And if someone says something _unfortunate_?"

"I'm certain Sheik can intervene if my daughter's about to say something—"

"It wasn't Zelda I was referring to."

Rhys glanced at her, seeing the tension in her shoulders. Of course. He felt like an idiot. She was worried about Sheik. To her, this was probably the same thing as sending him to their bloody fortress. He gave her a smile, bumping his shoulder against hers. "They know better than to insult him," he said. "And even if they do, _he_ knows better than to let it get to him. He's stronger than you think."

"I know he's strong—but I will not stand for him to suffer their jeers," Iana said, jaw clenching.

"They seem polite enough for now," Rhys said. "Don't work yourself up for nothing."

She glared at him. "Is my agitation at seeing my only son so close to the enemy upsetting you? I do apologise," she said, voice dripping with venom.

He glared right back. "They are _not_ the enemy," he hissed. "Continually treating them that way will compromise the whole process. You have more reason than most to dislike them, but I can't let that get in the way of peace. Please, if you worry for Sheik, then go to him. Introduce yourself, get to know them."

Iana held his gaze for several moments before breaking away. "I will inspect the guard posts. Keep an eye on them."

She marched off, leaving Rhys to stare after her with a frown. Perhaps it was too much too quickly, insisting that she and Sheik attend the function... He'd only done it in hopes of encouraging the Sheikah and the Gerudo to come to some sort of truce, but perhaps it was too late for that, given everything that had happened... Technically, neither of them had to be here—after burning the tapestry, all binds that tied the Sheikah to the royal family had been destroyed. Iana and Sheik were free to do as they liked, but Iana had chosen to stay—though whether it was out of a sense of loyalty or...or whatever it was she and Rhys had now, he had no idea. He wasn't even sure if she'd told Sheik yet.

Sighing, he prepared himself to approach the Gerudo delegation. He'd keep an eye on Sheik, just in case. He wasn't about to let Iana's son suffer any abuse, verbal or otherwise.

* * *

_Her saliva was thick and dry, refusing to budge when she tried to swallow it down. She was completely drenched, though with what she knew not. Presumably blood, mud, sweat, and everything else that permeated the battlefield. Her water skin was empty, and none of the bodies around her seemed to carry one. Then again, any water to be found in the half-sunken mess that had once been the Hyrulian camp was probably contaminated anyway._

_Any semblance of order was gone. The summer heat had dissipated the week before, ushering in a never-ending rainstorm that had reduced the battlefield and camps to a muddy pit. The Hyrulian general had died of an unexplained fever, and the Gerudo continually threw themselves into suicidal attacks that left the royal army with no time to rest or properly eat. The chain of command was unable to keep them under control._

_And then the bombs had started to fall. Where the desert thieves had gotten them was a mystery, but their catapults had rained the exploding shells down upon them with no mercy, followed by one last charge._

_Something had struck her temple when the lines met, and left her confused and disorientated. She'd blacked out, and now she was alone, surrounded by bodies from both sides, deep in mud. Around her, she could hear the sounds of fighting, but for the moment she was alone._

_She tried to swallow once more, nearly retching at the way the sticky saliva stuck to the back of her throat._

_Where were the others? She couldn't see any dark-blue among the bodies...but then the mud obscured pretty much any colour. She didn't dare look into the crater a few feet away. There was nothing recognisable as a person in there anyway...just a pile of...bits._

_Her sword was gone. She took a scimitar off a dead Gerudo whose face had been caved in by a mace, and headed in the direction of the fighting that sounded closest._

_This wasn't a battle anymore. It could barely be called true fighting. She encountered small pockets of struggling combatants, though exhaustion was apparent in their movements and the sluggish, half-hearted strokes they aimed at each other. One Hylian soldier was locked in a struggle with a Gerudo, wrestling each other in the mud. There were no voices, only hurried panting and grunts. If she didn't know better, she'd think they were lovers fighting for dominance in the throes of passion...but when the Gerudo's thumbs found his eye sockets, the illusion was quickly dispelled by his agonised screams._

_Iana was too late, beheading the Gerudo in one stroke as the Hylian's screams fell silent, his face a ruined mess._

_"Sorry," she breathed, wishing she'd gotten there sooner._

_"Push! Don't falter!"_

_The commanding voice drew her further onto the battlefield, where more organised melees were taking place. Both sides were exhausted, but neither of them yielded. Iana thought of joining one of the Hyrulian squads, but knew that she would be of more use elsewhere..._

_...though that was a lie. She wanted to find the others. Her kind. Impa, her father and...and..._

_Her distraction could have proved fatal. One moment she was walking past a ruined section of the village's defensive wall, the next she was facedown in the mud, barely having dodged a glaive aimed straight for her neck. Four Gerudo had been waiting to ambush her, immediately swarming around her the moment their first attack failed. Iana kicked out, striking the closest thief in the knee, making it bend the wrong way with a loud crack, followed by a pained scream from the stricken woman._

_Whirling the scimitar in a deadly circle to keep the enemy at bay, Iana got to her feet and tried to steady herself, but the slippery ground was not doing her any favours. She dodged the glaive once more as it was thrust towards her, grabbing the pole and pulling it so the Gerudo stumbled forward. Iana's scimitar opened her throat wide and sent her sprawling in the mud, quickly colouring it red._

_Something slammed into the side of Iana's face and sent her stumbling. She lost the grip on her scimitar and, without thinking, drew a dagger from the sheath on her thigh and struck out, feeling the blade sinking into something soft and warm. It didn't kill the target. Three more cracks numbed her face and sent her crashing into the wall. before she knew what was happening, she was being pressed up against it, immobilised by at least two attackers. She tried struggling against their hold, but she was struck once more, leaving her barely able to stand from dizziness._

_"Got a blood-eye!" one of them shouted. "She killed Rena!"_

_"Hold her," a second one groaned. "Broke my fucking leg...gouge her eyes out!"_

_Iana was turned around so she could face the attackers, seeing their menacing looks through the haze that had enveloped her head. One of them had a wicked-looking knife in her hands._

_"We'll cut 'em out and send 'em to the king!" she cackled gleefully._

_"How'd you like that, eh?"_

_Her vision was compromised, but Iana heard the slight scrape of a boot on stone above her. Too quiet to be a soldier... She grinned. "You're dead," she said simply._

_"Do it!" the Gerudo with the broken leg said. "Before she—heurgh!"_

_Something landed on her and bore her to the ground, a short sword buried in her throat. The two Gerudo holding Iana let go of her and turned, seeing the dark-blue blur that had just finished off their officer turn towards them. One cried out in anger and charged at the newcomer, who quickly dodged out of her blade's path, tripped her up and snapped her neck with a single, deft movement. The second went to attack as well, but Iana reached out and held her fast, plunging a stiletto into her temple._

_"Iana!"_

_She recognised his voice immediately, her vision gradually clearing up as he carefully steadied her._

_"Alre..." she muttered, trying not to moan from the headache. "Where were you?"_

_"Sorry, we needed to secure the king," Alre said, looking genuinely apologetic. "Are you all right?" he asked, gently touching her bleeding cheek._

_"Bitch hit me in the head," she replied. "Thrice. Can't see very well."_

_"We need to regroup. Get you to the infirmary."_

_"The others?" Iana asked, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. It was firm and broad. "My sister?"_

_"They're...fine," Alre said, hesitating. "Impa has taken command. We've lost a few, but we're still many enough to mount a struggle."_

_"Oh...good..."_

_Impa was in command? But that meant..._

_"Let's go," Alre said once more, taking her arm._

_"I can walk by myself," she insisted. To her credit, she managed five whole steps before the world tilted around her and she nearly ended up face first on the bloody, muddy ground. Alre caught her before she was even close, however, putting her arm around his shoulder. "Alre..."_

_"Please, don't be stupid," he admonished her. "You probably have a concussion. Let me get you to the healers."_

_"...fine..."_

_She allowed herself to be guided towards the new command post, trying to ignore how warm Alre was and, despite the mess they were both covered in, how good he smelled._

* * *

Iana opened her eyes, having lost herself in the memories of that day. One of the most disastrous battles Hyrule had ever fought. Death tolls had been high on both sides. Victory had barely been achieved, but they'd won. The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that it set the Gerudo's campaign back several months. They'd gotten too cocky with their bomb attack; neglecting to consider the effect they would have on the field itself and fought themselves to an agonising standstill that left them vulnerable when the fresh royal army reinforcements arrived.

Iana's father had been injured in that battle. He'd never recovered from the wounds, though it had taken months for him to die. Impa had done an admirable job in taking charge of the clan, but it had run her ragged.

Rhys' father had been furious and exacted a terrible vengeance on the Gerudo for the entire fiasco, launching a series of vicious attacks in retaliation and cutting them off from the supply route that had provided them with the bombs in the first place.

It was a dark day for everyone involved...except for one thing. It was the day Iana and Alre had...noticed each other. The months that had followed had been the happiest of her life.

She shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. She was standing by a window in the hallway outside the ballroom, staring into the darkness outside. She could see the torches of the patrolling guards, noting with satisfaction that there were never fewer than four of them together at one time and that one patrol passed by every four minutes.

The guards would be exhausted, but she felt better knowing they were out in force. If something happened to Rhys or Zelda...or Sheik...or Kerran or Akia...all because of her negligence when it came to security...she'd never be able to forgive herself.

"Mother?"

She forced herself not to jump in surprise. She'd been so focused on the external security she hadn't heard the approaching footsteps. Slowly turning, she found her son standing next to the Gerudo ambassador.

"Sheik?" she asked.

"The ambassador wishes to speak with you."

Iana turned her attention to the ambassador, analysing her. Her pose was rigid and surely uncomfortable, though that was to be expected on occasions like this. One was never fully at ease when faced with a room full of people who'd stab you in the back at the drop of a hat if they would gain something from it. Nabooru was smiling, and as far as Iana could see it was genuine. She could sense no ill intent so far...though it could all be a trick to make her relax, and then strike when her guard was down. Nevertheless...

"Ambassador," she said, bowing. "I apologise for forcing you all the way out here."

"Not at all, Mistress Iana," Nabooru said, offering a bow of her own. "Truth be told, I needed some quiet. I am not used to gatherings like these. The noise level is a bit unbearable."

"I can imagine," Iana said, nodding and looking at Sheik. "If that is all, Sheik, I'd like you to return to the princess' side."

"Yes, mother," Sheik said, turning and walking away. Zelda and "Princess" Aveil was waiting by the doors to the ballroom, as was the so-called princess' bodyguard. Zelda and Aveil were deep in conversation, and Iana couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about.

"Such a polite young man," Nabooru said, also watching the group. "He does credit to your people's reputation."

"Reputation?" Iana asked.

"Disciplined, well-spoken, obedient, loyal..."

"...good killers?"

"Great warriors," Nabooru corrected. "It's in the way he carries himself. Seemingly casual and relaxed...but ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. Like a great cat." The ambassador looked Iana up and down. "Much like yourself."

Iana couldn't tell if it was meant as a veiled insult or not, so she simply nodded. "Was there something in particular you wished to speak to me about, Ambassador?"

"Nothing of any political importance," Nabooru admitted, cocking her head slightly to the side. Behind her, Sheik and Zelda disappeared back into the ballroom with Aveil and her bodyguard. The bodyguard shot Iana a sour look before following her charge. "I simply believe in making as many friends as possible in a new place. And, given our shared history, perhaps it would be best for us to...ease tensions. I would rather have you as a friend than an enemy, Mistress Iana."

Iana looked at her with a frown. "Pretty words," she said. "I have no intention of interfering in the peace process, Ambassador, and I mean no offence when I say this, but there will never be a day on which I call a Gerudo my friend."

"I understand," Nabooru said, nodding. She looked disappointed, but bore it with a smile that was barely visible behind her veil. "I would not feel particularly charitable towards those responsible for the sort of losses you have suffered either."

Iana resisted the urge to punch the ambassador in the face. The thief was testing her! The nerve!

"I'm glad you understand," Iana said, refusing to give in to the temptation to give Nabooru a black eye. "However, as I said, you need not fear my interference in this...unless I sense a threat towards the king, the princess, or my son."

"The Gerudo stand to lose far more than Hyrule if this accord is not reached," Nabooru said. "I can assure you, no one desires peace more than my king. He, too, has lost friends and family to this war. As have I."

"Then one can only hope that the negotiations go well and no deception is uncovered. For all our sakes."

"Indeed."

Iana did not fail to notice the slight pause from the ambassador. It might have been a coincidence, of course, but for now it helped solidify her belief that Aveil wasn't truly a princess, much less a blood relation of Ganondorf. Whether Nabooru knew that _she_ knew, however, the ambassador did not give a single sign. She said nothing, and they bowed to each other once more.

Nabooru made to walk away, but paused a few steps later, turning back to Iana with a curious look. "You looked deep in thought when your son brought me to you. What were you thinking about?"

"A battle I once fought in," Iana replied. "Nothing important."

"I see..."

She watched the Gerudo walk back into the ballroom, wondering what the conversation had really been about. Not that it mattered. Iana had gotten what she wanted from it. It was up to Rhys to decide how they would handle the issue.

* * *

Link was leaning against one of the columns inside the ballroom, having fended off the veritable army of noble women who wanted to pinch his cheeks and introduce him to their daughters and hidden himself there. His eyes kept wandering the room, hoping to spot Zelda and Sheik, the two having disappeared with the Gerudo delegation half an hour before. There was no sign of them.

"You're looking particularly glum," Akia said, suddenly at his side with a goblet of wine in her hand. She wasn't very fond of the stuff, but on nights like this it was practically required. Link didn't mind. Having to deal with the members of House Layr was headache inducing. "Like someone stole the last lemon cake."

"They did, in fact," Link muttered, casting a glare at the fat, slovenly man that had taken the last piece of delicious, citrus-flavoured goodness from right under his nose. A second later, and it would have been his! "That one," he said, pointing.

"You couldn't outpace _that_?" Akia said in disbelief.

"He had longer reach."

Akia laughed, and Link ignored her while trying to find Zelda and Sheik once more. "Have you seen them?"

"Who?"

"Sheik and Zelda."

"Not for a while, no. Why? Worried?"

"Of course not," he said quickly. "Just kind of lonely."

"Well, I'm here."

"Until you're whisked away by another army of suitors."

"I poured wine down one's collar. I don't think they'll be back for quite a while." She looked proud of herself. "Nearly a full cup, too."

"At some point they'll grow tired of trying, you know," Link said, looking at her. "At this rate, you'll never get married." He tried to keep his pleased grin off his face, but failed miserably.

"You don't sound very devastated about it."

"None of them are good enough."

"Aw, that's sweet of you to say." She scouted the ballroom. "And you, brother dear? See any fresh crumpets you'd like to tie yourself to?"

"Eugh, no," Link replied, grimacing. "I'd rather kiss a ReDead."

"No matter, I'm sure the king will spare no expense in finding you a wife sooner or later," she teased. "As he will do for Zelda and Sheik."

"For Sheik?"

He hadn't meant to say it so loud. Heads turned in their direction, and the youngest Rinir ducked behind the pillar to avoid their gazes, quickly followed by his sister. She looked amused at his reaction.

"What?" she asked. "It's no secret the king cares for him. Surely he'll want to help him? Or are you jealous, perhaps?"

"That's ridiculous," Link spat, though his words sounded anything but certain. "I don't care about that. Anyway, Sheik can't marry. He's a Sheikah, and he and Mistress Iana are the only ones left, so..."

"So what? Sheik is supposed to spend the rest of his life alone?" Akia shook her head. "That's cruel even for you, little brother."

"He won't be alone!" Link protested. "He'll have me!"

Akia smiled then, nodding. "I'm sure he will."

Link didn't know why that made her so happy, so he simply nodded back. "You can count on it."

"Then why don't you go find him? I'm sure Zelda will want to introduce you to Princess Aveil as soon as possible."

He was off immediately, and Akia watched him go. She wondered which of them would be the first to realise it. She and Zelda had spent some time planning how to get their respective little brothers to understand just what they were to each other, but so far none of those plans had come to fruition. It was a surprisingly difficult task, especially since it wasn't something that could be shouted from the rooftops.

Sighing, she downed her wine and grimaced at the taste. Far too bitter. How people could drink so much that they tripped over nothing but air was beyond her. She heard voices approaching her hiding spot and peeked around the column. Another crowd of male noble heirs were apparently trying to find her. She wondered why they were so persistent when she did all in her power to ward them off. The only thing she hadn't tried thus far was physical violence (not counting the Layr nincompoops)...and somehow she had a feeling that would only spur them on.

She tried to dive back into her safe spot, but it was too late. She'd been spotted.

Right, there was only one thing for it. The chase was on.

* * *

The ball was beginning in earnest now, and Ayla found herself standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching the nobles spin and twirl across the marble floor, their reflections shining. There was food everywhere around them, served on silver trays. Wine flowed from great barrels, drunk from gold cups. The clothes worn by the nobles presumably cost more than the average citizen of Hyrule earned in five years.

Such opulence. It made her uncomfortable. Clearly, this was not the sort of life she could envision herself leading, and she found herself wishing that their mission to Hyrule would end as soon as possible.

She focused her attention on Aveil, who was dancing with one of the braver noble boys. He had approached her haltingly and nervously asked her for a dance, which Aveil had equally nervously accepted. The poor girl's training in the finer arts had been hasty and patchy, and it was almost painful to see how wooden and awkward her movements across the floor were. Her nervousness was playing a big part too, of course, but still...

She spotted Princess Zelda on the floor as well, dancing with what appeared to be a potential suitor, though she kept glancing at Aveil. She was clearly unhappy about the arrangement. The two had taken a shine to each other immediately (though Ayla had a feeling Aveil was more terrified of the Hylian girl than anything else) and it was only with extreme reluctance that Zelda had agreed to dance with the noble. King Rhys had looked close to begging, which was...interesting.

Master Sheik was standing at the other edge of the dance floor, presumably doing the same thing Ayla was—keeping watch. Next to him, one of the king's wards (Kerran, was it?) stood, talking and gesturing excitedly.

She felt the air shift next to her, but she did not need to look to see who it was. "Ambassador," she said.

"She knows," Nabooru muttered quietly so only Ayla could hear.

"What?"

"Mistress Iana," Nabooru said, jerking her head towards King Rhys, who was talking with the Sheikah in question. "She knows Aveil isn't the king's daughter."

"How?" Ayla asked, feeling an urge to escape the castle immediately.

Nabooru rolled her eyes. "It was a flimsy story. They probably saw the things that didn't add up and extrapolated. She made a comment about deception, and her tone was far too precise for it to have been a coincidence. She knows, and that means King Rhys knows."

"Then why haven't we been arrested yet?"

"I have no idea," Nabooru admitted. "For some reason, they appear to be playing along for now. Perhaps they expect us to launch some sort of surprise attack, or something equally silly."

"So what do we do?" Ayla asked. "Do we leave?"

"Our mission is too important for us to run away with our tails tucked between our legs just because a Sheikah saw through a plan we, admittedly, put together at the last minute. They expect us to be treacherous...and we will surprise them by being anything but. I will have to inform King Ganondorf, of course, but he will probably say the exact same thing. Hopefully, if we are called on our bluff, we will be given the opportunity to explain. For now, however, we stick to the script."

"I'll keep a closer eye on Aveil, then, to ensure she does."

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a Hylian king to kiss up to."

"Don't wear yourself out."

"I never do."

"You always were a lazy lover," Ayla muttered.

So, the Sheikah knew, did she? Ayla's eyes landed on the red-eyed warrior by the king's side. There was no questioning her formidability. Ayla wondered if she'd ever have the opportunity to pit herself against the Sheikah leader—the ultimate test of her abilities...

Either way, this diplomatic visit would certainly prove interesting.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Iana **_**really**_** doesn't like the Gerudo. Understandable, really, but unfortunate when it comes to politics...**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	15. XV

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XV**

* * *

**1071 - Sheik is thirteen, Link and Zelda are fourteen**

* * *

"Absolutely not! It is out of the question!"

Rhys' voice thundered in the council chamber, where the day's meeting with the Gerudo delegation was taking place. The discussion had taken a turn for the worse when they hit upon a rather sore subject, namely that of the disputed strip of land that had become known as, predictably enough, The Strip. It was the territory about which the first war with the Gerudo had started, all because of the fact that the old kings of the day had been unable to come to an agreement about it.

The crux of the matter was that neither Hyrule nor the Gerudo could prove they were the original holders of the land. As a result, war had broken out. Over the centuries, this matter had become even more muddled, and by the time Rhys took the throne, the war was more a matter of principle than anything else, which was all the more reason to put such silly matters behind them all.

But some habits die hard, and neither Rhys nor Ganondorf were willing to relinquish their claims on the fertile farmland that The Strip mostly consisted of.

"The Strip always was part of our kingdom," Nabooru said, equally irate. Her anger mostly showed in the tightening of her lips and her voice turning icy cold. "Until the Hylians came and forced us deeper into the valley. I think it only reasonable that it is returned to us."

"We forced you into the valley because you simply moved onto The Strip, which at the time was most definitely our territory, and claimed it as yours," Rhys said, trying to rein in his anger. "You were lucky there were no casualties the first time; the blood that subsequently was spilled for it is on your people's hands."

"Have you proof that we moved onto _your_ territory, Your Grace?" Nabooru asked through clenched teeth. "I have looked at the records in your library, and found no such thing."

"Have you proof of the opposite?" Rhys asked in return. "The Gerudo have always resided in the desert. How on earth would you have ended up with a piece of prime farmland in the western part of Hyrule, which is decidedly temperate in climate?"

"What else would we live off of?"

"Trade." Rhys leaned back in his chair, lips twitching. "And...the other thing."

"Thievery, you mean."

"Do you deny it?"

"No, but our...activities are no means to feed a population of thousands."

"They have been for the past decade at the very least, when we finally threw the last of your armies out of Hyrule," Rhys said. "Or are you telling me your people are starving? I have received no such reports."

"We are not starving," Nabooru confirmed, unwilling to give up too much information on their dire situation. It was the truth, more or less. For now, at least. If Twinrova continued raiding their supply caravans, though... "But we are not growing fat off the land like your own people. The Strip is hardly of any consequence to Hyrule, whether or not it remains in your control. Your whole kingdom consists of fertile land and can easily give a small sliver of it up. To us, The Strip is perhaps the only way to guarantee that our children and children's children will prosper."

Iana stood by the door with Nabooru's bodyguard, Ayla, her arms crossed and leaning against the wall. She watched the proceedings with a keen eye, trying to gauge the truth of the Nabooru's statements. It was difficult. The Gerudo's words seemed genuine, but there was clearly something she was holding back. She was with Rhys on the issue of The Strip, however. The likelihood of that territory originally belonging to the Gerudo were remote, especially given Hyrule's conquest-driven past. Rhys' bloodline was considerably more benevolent than the first royal family...

"And how would it look if I were to simply give in to that demand?" Rhys said. "Not one soul in all of Hyrule would go along with it. A war was started over it, in which thousands upon thousands have died, and now I am supposed to simply hand it over? With all due respect, Ambassador, but your king is out of his mind if this is the issue chooses to dig in on. And, please, remember that these negotiations were started on _his_ initiative. If I were anything like my father, I would have demanded an unconditional surrender and severe reparations for the rest of your people's days."

"But you are not your father, Your Grace," Nabooru said, inclining her head. "Or our heads would already be on spikes over the city gates. That alone proves you are a reasonable man. We are not simply asking you to give us The Strip, though whether or not is yours to give is a matter that can be discussed until we both die of old age."

"Then what are you asking?" Rhys asked.

"We want The Strip, primarily to feed our people," Nabooru said. "However, we would also be willing to work with the Hylians already settled on those lands. We would not have you evict them. We would even pay them for their work. In essence, it would still be Hyrulian land."

"Though its fruits would go to the Gerudo."

"Fruits that would guarantee a lasting peace between our nations." Nabooru folded her hands on the table. "Perhaps even an alliance, when we have proven ourselves trustworthy once more. There is much we can offer each other, after all."

Rhys frowned, tapping his knuckles against the armrest of his chair as he considered the ambassador's words. "And the Hylians residing on The Strip at this moment...they would be protected by your soldiers? Security is the biggest issue plaguing the residents there."

"Naturally—we would be the caretakers of both the land and its inhabitants. That means security for _everyone_."

"And if I were to commission the construction of a fort nearby? Well within my lands, of course, but still positioned strategically?"

"That is your prerogative as King of Hyrule," Nabooru replied, opening her arms in a gesture of peace. "The Strip would see no military exploitation from us save for barracks that would house the soldiers responsible for the protection of the farmland."

Rhys fell silent then, deep in thought. Several minutes passed, and when he spoke once more, it was only to say:

"You have given me food for thought, Ambassador. I will consider your proposal, though you may well find my answer to be far from satisfactory. We will reconvene tomorrow at noon."

"Very well, Your Grace," Nabooru said, standing with practiced grace and bowing deeply. She was not happy. There was an extreme amount of tension in her shoulders. "Then we will take our leave. With your permission, I would like to see to Princess Aveil."

"By all means," Rhys said, nodding. "I believe my daughter is having tea with her in the garden."

The Gerudo left, leaving Iana alone with Rhys in the council chamber. The king turned to her, giving her a tired look. "And to think I believed these negotiations would be easy. Ganondorf seemed desperate enough for peace in his letters, but this..."

"King Ganondorf might be willing to accede to extreme compromises and demands in the name of peace," Iana said, wandering over to him and seating herself in the chair next to his. "And that is most likely why he sent Ambassador Nabooru to negotiate in his stead. She is...tough. Less flexible. She will not leave Hyrule until she has what is, in her mind, a fair deal."

"And do you think it's fair? Giving up The Strip?"

"I have no opinion," she said, bowing her head. "It is not my place to have them."

"Hyrule is your home as well," Rhys said, shaking his head at her. "Would you take kindly to me giving a piece of it away with virtually no chances of any sort of return?"

"The Strip does not affect me in any way," Iana replied. "If there is anyone you should ask, it is those who reside on it. Are they willing to work for the Gerudo instead of The Crown?"

"I don't imagine it will matter much as long as they get paid," Rhys muttered. "They're pragmatic people, farmers. They might find it jarring to suddenly find themselves being protected by the Gerudo rather than _my_ soldiers, but I don't imagine things would change much in the long run. The produce wagons would simply be going the opposite way, and there'd be a marked increase in the number of attractive women in the area—ow!"

"Oh, my apologies," Iana said innocently. "I seem to have pricked you with your own pen."

Rhys glared at her. "Point taken. Where was I? Oh, yes...no, I don't imagine the inhabitants of The Strip would mind the change all that much. I will send for a representative—let them weigh in on the matter."

"A wise decision," Iana agreed.

Rhys smiled then, and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles for several long moments. "What did you mean, when you said it was not your place to have an opinion?" he asked quietly.

She blinked. "I meant what I meant," she replied. "It is not my place. I am not in a position where my words or opinions are of consequence. I am a bodyguard to the king—nothing more. Not a landowner, or a titleholder. My means are limited, and I hold no sway over the populace...well, apart from their hatred, that is."

Rhys nodded slowly as she spoke, never ceasing his stroking. It was oddly comforting...though Iana was glad the council chamber had no windows. This was...wildly inappropriate.

"You haven't told Sheik yet," the king said, eyeing her with piercing eyes. "That you're free. Why is that?"

"It would not change things for him," Iana answered, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. It wasn't directed at Rhys, but at Hyrule in general. "He is still a Sheikah. What good is freedom to him when he will never be able to do anything with it? He will not find work, because no self-respecting Hylian would ever hire a filthy Sheikah. He can never own a business of his own, because no self-respecting Hylian would ever deign to work _for_ a filthy Sheikah. Everywhere he goes he will be met with suspicion because everyone knows the Sheikah are thieves, spies, murderers and rapists—this _truth_ is propagated well outside Hyrule's borders as well. There is only one place for he and I—protecting you and Zelda." She held up a hand as Rhys began to protest. "I do not think ill of this arrangement. I am quite glad of it, in fact. It is a comfort, as I know my son will always be welcome here...even if only as a bodyguard."

Rhys shook his head. "He is not welcome here as a bodyguard. He is welcome here as a friend of the royal family." He sighed, grimacing. "Damn my ancestors," he growled. "This is their fault."

Iana frowned. "They simply saw an opportunity for free labour. They'd be fools not to take it."

"Well, I am quite tired of said labour being free," Rhys said, rising from his seat and pacing the length of the room. "It has been for far too long. Your people has bled and died for mine—and no gratitude has been shown your way. No, that is unacceptable." He paused, turning to her. "Iana...I love you."

She froze. "Where are you going with this?" she asked.

He understood her train of thought, and paled a little. "Oh...that is...I...it would never..." He sighed again, and paced some more. "Believe me, _that_ would be _much_ simpler," he said. He paused once more, clenching his fists. "I am founding a new House."

Iana said nothing. She merely watched him, curious.

Seeing her lack of reaction, Rhys spurred himself on. "It's overdue, really. The lands have belonged to the Crown for the past hundred years or so, but I think it's time they came under some proper supervision. They're not large, naturally, but...comfortable, I should say."

"And which House would these lands go to?"

He looked at her then, grinning. "Why, House Sheikah, of course."

* * *

Aveil found herself under surveillance on two fronts. To her left, she was being subjected to a piercing, inquisitive and distrustful gaze from Master Sheik. He was standing ten feet away, keeping his distance (as was proper, apparently), but also a watchful eye on her. It was unnerving, an effect that was only enhanced by the fact that he'd begun to cover up the lower half of his face, leaving only a narrow strip of exposed skin, from which those penetrating rubies were staring at her. It made her glad she herself was wearing her veil, for the minor protection it afforded her. She'd been assured again and again by Nabooru that the younger boy would not dare attack her unless she gave him reason to, but it didn't make him seem any less dangerous.

Someone cleared their throat to her right, and Aveil found her attention brought back to the second front on which she was being assaulted. While Princess Zelda's stare was no less intense than Master Sheik's, hers was of a more pleasant and friendly nature...though the face splitting smile that never seemed close to ending was, in its own way, also unnerving. Every action Aveil performed, be it pouring herself some more tea or having one of the (admittedly) delicious biscuits that had come with it, was closely observed and sometimes mimicked.

And the questions never ended. Aveil wondered where the young princess found the air to fuel the unending stream of words that came from her mouth, she would never know. What was her homeland like? What was her father like? Did she know how to fight? Did Ayla teach her to fight? Was Nabooru her aunt or something? How long did the ride from the Valley take?

It was flattering, in a way. Having a princess like Zelda continually asking Aveil, who up until very recently had been an utter nobody in the grand scheme of things, every detail of her life was extraordinary. It felt...nice. It was a pity every answer Aveil gave her had to be a lie in order to preserve her false identity.

"Can I see your face?"

Aveil hesitated. "As a princess of the Gerudo, it is not appropriate to show my unobscured visage to those outside my immediate family," she replied, feeling a slight constriction in her chest when she saw the eager look on Zelda's face deflate a little. It was like disappointing an admiring younger sister. "But...since I will be staying here for quite some time, chances are you will see it sooner or later, so..." She turned towards Zelda (so that Master Sheik could not see) and lowered the veil, giving the other princess an unobstructed view of her face for the first time.

The effect was instantaneous. Zelda's eyes grew large, her jaw dropping open as she inhaled sharply. "You're...you're beautiful!" she exclaimed.

Pulling the veil back in place, Aveil felt her cheeks heat up in a blush. It was such a genuine, non-deceptive statement, and the way Zelda clearly had to struggle to keep herself from reaching out was...well, it was too cute for words, really. An equally fiery blush had come to Zelda's cheeks as well, and Aveil wondered _why_ that was. Surely she didn't...?

"Princess, please control yourself in front of your guest," Master Sheik muttered just loud enough so Zelda (and Aveil) could hear him.

Despite his unnerving presence (surprising for someone two years younger than her), Aveil found herself mentally thanking Sheik for his interruption, realising that this interaction had taken a turn for the unseemly. Presumably, he'd spoken up to protect Zelda from possible ramifications or cultural misunderstandings, but he'd inadvertently stopped Aveil from asking an impertinent question.

Or, impertinent among royalty perhaps. For common Gerudo, it was a regular occurrence. She had to be more careful, from now on, or she might cause an international incident. She would have to keep reminding herself that, deception or not, she was now a princess and had to act like one. And that included...well, definitely not encouraging what she suspected was happening right now!

"My apologies," Zelda said, her tone shifting to the overly formal one that kept disappearing whenever she believed them to be sufficiently alone ("alone" being a relative term when Sheikah were involved), and ducking her head slightly. "I did not mean to be so rude, Aveil."

"There is no need for apologies, Zelda," Aveil replied, shaking her head. "I was not offended by your words. Flattered, perhaps, but not offended."

"I didn't mean to flatter you," Zelda exclaimed. "You really are gorgeous!"

"Zelda!"

Sheik's reminder had the Hylian recoiling as if stung, her face red as a tomato. "Sorry," she muttered.

_For goddess' sake, let her speak!_ Aveil thought, casting a glare in the Sheikah's direction.

He returned her glare, as if to say "I know what's going on here and I won't allow it."

It almost felt like a challenge, really...and Aveil had never backed down from one. Especially not from a glorified chaperone! Scary as he was, Master Sheik was powerless until Aveil did something to actively threaten his princess. She moved her chair close to Zelda's until they were practically sitting right next to each other. "Tell me, Zelda," she said, pointing into the garden at a random plant. "What is that called?"

Zelda blinked. "That one? It's a thuja—also known as a cedar...or was it whitecedar? I don't quite remember."

"It reminds me of a prickly type of bush that grows in the Valley," Aveil continued, shifting a little closer and placing a friendly—or it so it would seem—hand on Zelda's shoulder. The effect it had on both the Hylian princess and her Sheikah bodyguard was immediate and quite strong, but Aveil feigned obliviousness to the whole thing. "Strong and resistant...though that one, I think, is also quite...soft. Far more beautiful, too."

It was a clumsy metaphor, and Aveil knew Nabooru and Ayla would be _ashamed_ to hear it, but it achieved the results Aveil wanted. Master Sheik looked close to bursting with indignation, and Zelda's eyes were fixed on Aveil's hand, which was still resting gently on her shoulder.

A thousand codes of conduct were probably broken that moment, but Aveil wanted to _win_.

Luckily, Nabooru and Ayla, who emerged from the castle and immediately began stalking towards them, defused the situation immediately. Disappointed, Aveil moved away from Zelda, pointedly ignoring Sheik. He was still unnerving, but now she knew what _annoyed_ him...and said annoyance alleviated his scariness by a lot. She doubted the same trick would work in Mistress Iana, but then she had no intention of testing that woman either.

"Princess Zelda," Nabooru greeted with a bow, which Ayla mirrored. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, ambassador," Zelda greeted in return, smiling. All the awkwardness of the past fifteen minutes was gone as she slipped into her royal persona once more. "I hope the negotiations go well."

"They are progressing at an adequate pace, yes," Nabooru replied.

Aveil knew that was code for "They're going to shit."

"I am glad to hear that."

"Indeed. I do not want to impose, Your Grace, but I need to speak with Aveil. May I borrow her for a minute?"

"Of course."

Aveil was led further into the gardens on an erratic path she knew was meant to throw off anyone who might be tempted to listen in on their conversation, followed by them ducking into the large hedge maze that dominated the middle of the grounds. She could tell from Nabooru's tense jaw that things were not progressing well at all. Was it something _she_ had done? Aveil tried to think of a moment in the two weeks they'd spent at Hyrule so far in which she'd acted improper or done something out of character for a princess. Apart from her attempt to annoy Master Sheik just a few minutes ago, she could not think of anything she'd done to warrant the ambassador's displeasure.

Finally, when they'd reached a point in the maze the ambassador apparently found adequately secure, she stopped and turned to Aveil.

"News from home," she said quietly. "Twinrova tried to assassinate the king two days ago. We got a falcon in earlier this morning."

"What?" Aveil asked, eyes wide. "Is he all right?"

"One of his guards took the blow, and he cut the attacker down himself. She died before she could give us any useful information, unfortunately."

"They're getting bolder," Ayla said, fists clenched in anger. The deceased guard had probably been a friend of hers.

"The king knows he must be careful now," Nabooru said. "He knows how to keep himself protected. But I fear Twinrova's hand may soon extend to this place as well. Aveil, I need you to be on guard at all times. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious or out of place—even among our own numbers."

Aveil gave her a pointed look.

"Present company excluded," Nabooru added, glowering.

"And try not to piss off the Sheikah," Ayla added.

"I wasn't—"

"If looks could kill, you'd be a pile of ashes by now," she interrupted. "I've never seen a glare so fierce—not even from the adult ones. I don't know what you did, but it certainly wasn't to his liking." She stared at Aveil with her arms crossed, patiently. That was the scariest side of her Aveil knew of. You could never really tell whether she was about to explode or not. "What did you do, Aveil?" she asked.

"I...may have flirted with the princess a tiny bit," Aveil admitted, figuring it was better to come clean before things escalated. "It was accidental at first, but..."

Nabooru groaned, and Ayla rolled her eyes.

"I know I said you should get close to the princess," Nabooru said, "but I didn't mean _that_ way! Do you have any idea how much trouble we'll get in if you seduce her? Accidentally or not!"

"I wasn't planning on seducing her," Aveil protested. "I couldn't resist—it was just a bit of fun."

"Did she know that?"

"I don't know—"

"Exactly. We're not in the Valley anymore, Aveil. Zelda won't know you're just being playful rather than serious—and before you say anything, the girl is already worshipping the ground you walk on. You're deep enough in it already—don't make it worse."

"I'm sorry, Nabooru."

Nabooru sighed. "Sometimes I feel like a den mother, you know? Between you, the girls starting fights in the taverns, and Ayla inching to pick a _friendly_ fight with Mistress Iana, I don't know when I'll have time to deal with King Rhys. This isn't what I signed up for." She patted Aveil's shoulder. "You're doing well, Aveil. Just be a little more careful, all right?"

"Understood."

"And _you_," she said, turning to Ayla, "if I hear of any more so-called accidental food spillages that end up on Iana's lap, I'll hand you over to the Sheikah for target practice—understood?"

"Sure thing, boss!" Ayla replied, saluting mockingly. "Only real food spillages from now on!"

Only the truly wretched could understand and sympathise with the annoyance expressed by the Gerudo ambassador at that moment.

* * *

Iana paced back and forth in her chambers, muttering angrily.

"Typical...just has to upset the balance, doesn't he...were doing just fine till now...Goddesses know how the country will react...never thinks things through..."

She'd remained silent up until the moment she'd gone off duty and retreated to her chambers without giving Rhys their (now) customary goodnights, but her thoughts had generally followed this pattern ever since the moment the king had revealed his plans to give Iana's (somewhat) stable and comfortable state of existence a rigorous shake.

"Noble house...hah...like anyone will ever accept that..."

To Rhys, it made complete sense. The Sheikah as a race would die out sooner or later—that was an unavoidable fact. But by raising Iana and Sheik to a noble position and giving them a title, at least their name and traditions would live on through their descendants. Rhys had clearly not given the matter of descendants any thought if he expected either Iana or Sheik to easily be able to find spouses to carry on their bloodline...or perhaps it was only Sheik he had imagined would? Exactly what the king had in mind for himself and Iana, she had no idea.

It was supposed to be a distraction. That's what she'd thought in the beginning, at least, but for every day that he planted silly little kisses on her lips in the mornings, she grew a little fonder of him in a way that she never should have been. Their banter during the day, in which he continued pushing the limits of what was decent and she tried restraining him...they kept challenging each other like that... And on the nights she, against all good judgements, slipped into his bed...well... She hadn't felt like this since Alre had passed. She felt guilty for betraying him like this, but...she had a feeling he would have understood.

But what was going to happen now? Rhys would raise her up whether she wanted him to or not—that was a truth she'd accepted right away. Once the Hylian set his mind on a goal, he didn't stop until he achieved it. His patience was far greater than hers, and he could keep up an argument like that indefinitely—she couldn't. And since striking a royal was against the rules...

So, she was to be a noble—as was Sheik. Kakariko and the surrounding farmlands would be theirs. The king had considered even that. Kakariko had always been home to the Sheikah—it was perhaps the only pocket of the Hylian population that didn't hate them on principle. Iana was on good terms with the village elders and other representatives. They probably wouldn't mind having Iana as a Countess, provided she didn't do something stupid with her newfound powers, like intentionally starve them or something...

What if she did so accidentally? She had watched Rhys and his father rule for years, but he only did so in the grander scheme of Hyrule at large. Managing a village or town the size of Kakariko...that was different. If she was to take up that mantle, she needed to study up on it...

She groaned and resisted the urge to grab fistfuls of her hair and tugging on them. Why did Rhys always have to make things so damn complicated? She'd been content with her lot in life, but nooooooo, he couldn't accept that...

...and in the end she knew she couldn't be angry with him for it either. He did it because he cared for her. He cared for Sheik.

Sheik...

This was a way for him to prosper without being dependant on Rhys or Zelda at all times. If he became a good ruler of Kakariko, then surely he would have good chances of finding a wife...having children...keeping the Sheikah ways alive.

Yes. That alone was reason to accept it.

Silly king. He had yet to realise the quickest way to affect her. She paused and sank into a chair by the door.

But how would Sheik feel about it all? She'd kept news of their freedom from him so far because she doubted it would make a difference, but this was on a different level entirely. Would he be happy? She'd never really been able to discern how he felt about their people's servitude to the throne. He'd accepted stoically, but that didn't necessarily mean he liked it or hated it... It would definitely affect his relationship with Zelda and the Rinirs, but would it be in a positive or negative way?

A perverse thought tried to take root in her mind at the thought of the princess, but she squashed it immediately. Not even a noble yet and already she was taking on airs. She wanted to smack herself for being so silly.

There was a knock on the door, and she took a deep breath before speaking. "Enter."

Sheik looked annoyed as he entered, closing the door with unnecessary force. "Mother," he greeted. "You called?"

"What did the door do to earn your ire?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. Something was bothering him.

"It's Princess Aveil," he replied curtly.

Ah, yes. The "princess". Iana was waiting for them to slip up. Had it happened already? "And?" she asked. "What has she done?"

"Zelda likes her."

Iana waited. When nothing more seemed to be forthcoming, she raised an eyebrow. "That is not really a crime, Sheik. After all, if our two nations are to cooperate and make peace, it is quite imperative for the two heirs to get along and become friends."

"She _likes_ her," Sheik repeated, stressing the middle word. "She won't stop talking about her, won't stop staring at her...and Aveil encourages it. Zelda asked to see her face, and she _let_ her!"

Iana frowned. This wasn't good. The situation they were in was far too charged for something like this to occur. If things blew up, literally and figuratively, loyalties and sentiment could not be muddled like this. "Tell me everything," she said, all thoughts of nobility forgotten.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**It's never simple with these things, is it?**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	16. XVI

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XVI**

* * *

**1071 - Sheik is thirteen, Link and Zelda are fourteen**

* * *

Another day, another meeting, another argument that made his heart thunder and his body heat up with annoyance in a way he had never experienced before. His head positively ached afterwards, his throat sore from the long hours of uninterrupted speaking. His lower arms were sore from the exertion of gripping the armrests of his chair—he was sure he'd left some deep gouges in the wood from his fingernails.

Ganondorf could not have picked a more infuriatingly skilled and savvy person to represent him in the peace negotiations. For every issue Rhys relented on, Nabooru went back to a previous point and attempted to renegotiate it, citing the current issue as setting precedent for that one. In more ways than one, her arguments usually made sense, which was why he found himself so annoyed with her. There were several things on which he couldn't afford to dig in, because it would make him appear petty in the eyes of both the Gerudo _and_ his own subjects, and he could not afford to lose face in this.

In short, Nabooru was completely in control of this, and every attempt he made at knocking her off the hill was rebuffed. Every attempt and strategy he made was countered and eviscerated before his very eyes. The issue of The Strip had been solved in a matter of minutes after the community's representative arrived at the castle. It had only been a mere formality, or so it appeared, and it was settled that the Gerudo would be moving in as soon as possible. Rhys had ordered the construction of a sturdy fortress the same day, just to be safe.

The worst part of all this was the fact that, despite finding himself outmanoeuvred at almost every turn, he was enjoying himself. It had been a long time since he'd had the chance to face such a skilled opponent in the game of politics. So long had his time been spent on battle plans and war strategies...which, admittedly, he still was, but in a way that would only (he hoped) end in peace.

Despite his enjoyment of it all, he still needed to pay a visit to the training yard and unleash his pent-up frustration on a poor training dummy, which was soon reduced to a pile of straw and bits of wood, his sword planted firmly in its "head". He was panting, sweat dripping from his face as he glared at the remains of the defenceless mannequin, willing them to burst into flame.

"Been a while since I've seen you this agitated," Iana noted from her perch on the training yard fence, biting into a strawberry. They were the last of the season, and she intended to get as much enjoyment out of it as possible. "Still sore about The Strip?"

"A little," he admitted, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt and retrieving his sword, wondering if he should ask the master-at-arms for a session with some of the younger members of the Guard. It had been a while since he'd faced anyone in true combat, but he liked to ensure his skills were up to snuff. Someone shouted a war cry, and steel clashed upon steel, which made him turn his head.

In the next yard over, young Akia Rinir was having a friendly spar with her brother. They seemed about evenly matched, which was impressive since Akia had been so far behind Lin—er, Kerran in terms of practice. Rhys could only be impressed with how fast Iana had whipped her into shape, and could not help but wonder how formidable his armies would be if she took charge of the basic training...

"Don't get bogged down by his attacks," Iana shouted, picking up another strawberry from the bag she was carrying. "Move your feet—speed is key!"

"Yes, Mistress!" Akia shouted in reply, adjusting her movements and quickly moving out of Kerran's attacks. With a mischievous grin she slapped him on the rump with the flat of her blade, eliciting a pained yelp and angry shout from the youngest Rinir. "Keep up, kid!"

Rhys chuckled and stalked over to Iana, leaning against the fence post. He reached for her bag, but she slapped his hand away. "Hey!"

"Get your own," she growled.

"I paid for those, you know."

"And then you gave them to me."

"Didn't your mother teach you the virtue of sharing?"

"She encouraged competition more than anything, to be honest," Iana said, shrugging. "Not that we didn't like it, of course. Things were more...exciting." She looked at him. "So...agitation?" She never was one to change the subject when she was determined to talk about something.

"I didn't expect them to cave in immediately," he admitted, sheathing his sword after wiping it clean of straw and debris. "I'd hoped for more of a fight...but I guess money is all people care about these days."

"It's easy not to care about money when you have it," she said. "No offence, Rhys, but you can't really know the commoner's mind-set when you've never been in their shoes. And they can't know yours, naturally, but when you let their opinion weigh so much..."

"I was setting myself up for a fall," he finished, sighing. "And Nabooru wasn't even in the room to guide me into it." He wanted to kick himself for being so careless. "She's in my head, it seems."

"Got you by the balls, pretty much," Iana agreed, looking none-too-worried about the implication.

"Would have figured you'd be more upset about it," he said sourly, eyeing her bag of delicious strawberries while also trying to ignore the red drop of juice that had somehow ended up on her cheek and his desire to lick it off. She'd have his head if she knew what he was thinking right then. "You hate the Gerudo."

"I do," she said and nodded. "But I am trying my best to set that hatred aside to let peace have its day. It's not easy, but the amusement of seeing you outwitted at every turn is quite...mitigating. Of course, I will remind you whenever I think you're being too lenient, of course."

"I thought you said it wasn't your place to have opinions on this." He narrowed his eyes.

"It wasn't, but seeing as you insist on going through with this ridiculous plan of yours, it seems I must become more politically minded." She looked down at him with an undecipherable expression on her face. "Unless, of course, you have changed your mind?"

He shook his head violently. "Absolutely not. I intend to go through with it whether or not you want it. There will be reparations."

"It really isn't necessary—"

"It is, and you know damn well that it is," he said, glaring at her. "If not for you, then at least for Sheik. I want him to have a future. A proper one. One in which...one in which he and my daughter can be friends, not just the protector and the one being protected. One where he can marry and have children. Where...well, where anything can happen, rather than the status quo."

He looked down at his hands. "I...I realise it will mean trouble, but I'm willing to risk it. I...care for him, you know?" He looked back up at her, surprised to see a slight sheen of wetness in her eyes. "It might be presumptuous of me, but I've always thought of him as a...a nephew, or something similar. He's been in my life since he was a babe...he could never be a simple bodyguard to me. He is family. Just like you."

"You silly little man," Iana said, holding out the bag of strawberries, allowing him to take one. "How can I possibly argue against that?"

Rhys smiled and, perhaps with a little less discretion than she'd have wanted, lightly caressed her cheek. He then licked at his finger, having retrieved the drop of juice. She watched the motion with a look that spoke of more than a little hunger.

"There is something I need to discuss with you," she said, hopping down from the fence. "In private."

"My chambers," he said, hoping no one noticed the giddiness of his stride as he followed her.

Akia was trying to contain the laughter that was threatening to burst forth, leaning against the fence post. The way the king moved, and the disgusted look on her brother's face, was absolutely hilarious.

"He really does not have a subtle bone in his body, does he?" Link said, shaking his head.

"He's in love," Akia said, finally fighting down the worst of the guffaws that surely would have echoed across the courtyard if she unleashed them. "It's hard to be subtle when suffering from that affliction."

"Mistress Iana is just as bad," Link continued. "I mean, 'private business'? Who the hell is going to believe that?"

Akia shook her head and tapped her little brother on his shoulder, motioning to the dozens of people occupying the courtyard. Most of them were guards and soldiers training, along with servants carting things to and from the keep (with some of them taking a few not-so-surreptitious glances at the handsome men and women practicing their deadly arts in the fenced-in parts of the yard).

"They do," she said, lowering her voice. "And they have to keep believing it, or the king will find himself in hot water."

Link snorted. "I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"Me neither, but we've had the benefit of getting to know the mistress, haven't we? They haven't. They don't know what kind of woman she is, and how much they're missing out on by not having her as their queen."

Link stared at her. "Could she be queen?" he asked.

"If Rhys wanted her to be, I don't see why not," she replied, shrugging. "People wouldn't be happy about it, but—"

"Who cares what they think?"

Sometimes, Akia felt the overwhelming urge to crush her little brother, who had seemed so cold and unreceptive after their father had died, into a giant bear hug. "Exactly," she intoned. "Who cares?"

She wanted to flaunt a certain other thought to him right then, but figured it would be too direct. But anyone who wasn't an idiot could see the looks he and Sheik gave each other whenever they happened to be training together or, indeed, watching each other train with others, but she decided not to overplay her hand at that moment. There was plenty of time to ensure those two realised how idiotic they were being with each other. It was depressing how little time they'd spent with each other lately, but apparently Zelda had developed an unhealthy attachment to the Gerudo princess lately, and Sheik was worried about what it could mean.

To Akia, it didn't really matter all that much. Zelda was young, still learning about the great mystery of love, along with her (adopted) brothers. Didn't matter much who she fell in love with as long as they weren't being abusive towards her. Granted, Mistress Iana probably wouldn't be happy (on account of having practically raised the young princess herself), but...Iana was hardly the authority on it all, was she?

It was getting complicated enough to make her head hurt, and Akia found herself thankful that she herself had not inadvertently blundered into something as ridiculous. Every single noble boy (and a few girls) who had approached her with marriage in mind had failed to catch her fancy, and she found herself wondering if there was a single person in Hyrule that was the right fit for her. Undoubtedly she had years upon years with innumerable balls and social gatherings to make her decision on this, but she was not being hopeful.

And did it really matter? At worst, she would pass her inheritance on to Kerr—er, Link—and let him handle things. He would probably do a batter job of it than her anyway. So far, her lessons with King Rhys on the matter of governing had been...less than hopeful. There were so many numbers and other things she couldn't keep track of (nor wanted to), and so many other details on top of those. The upkeep of the potential household alone was enough to make her want to scurry into bed and hide. Perhaps the Royal Army was a possible path for her? They were always on the lookout for good recruits, and with the things Mistress Iana had taught her...

"She'd make a good queen," Link continued, unaware of the train of thought that had caught his sister. "A bit scary, maybe, but a good one. People wouldn't try to mess things up when they might face her at the end of it." He looked at her when she gave no response. "Aki?" he asked, looking concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah, nothing," she replied, smiling.

"Or you."

She blinked. "Or me what?"

"You'd make a good queen."

She blanched. "Somehow, I doubt I am even remotely eligible for it," she said, grinning. "I don't think Zelda would be all that keen on the idea."

"Why not? She keeps saying she doesn't want to rule."

"When she's annoyed, yes, but not otherwise."

Link shook his head. "You could be...co-queens, or something?" he tried, trying and failing to contain the ridiculous grin on his face. Apparently, the idea was a funny one.

_Father, you didn't choke all the fun out of him,_ Akia thought, launching her surprise attack. She seized her little brother around the middle and tickled him mercilessly, relishing in the peals of laughter she could force out of him. He could easily have overpowered her, even now, but he didn't. He enjoyed it as much as her.

* * *

Sheik frowned, looking out the window.

Link kept letting people touch him. It seemed innocent enough—a pat on the shoulder here, a cheek rub there—but every single person who did it seemed to get this strange expression on their face whenever they did so. Like they wanted to keep doing it again and again, until Link melted under their ministrations and became jelly in their hands, which he tended to do whenever someone found a tender spot and gently massaged it.

It was far from acceptable. Link was a Rinir—one of two survivors of a very noble House indeed. He should know better than to let just about anyone touch him. Granted, the one touching him right now was Akia, his sister, but still...it sent jolts of annoyance from the very tip of his toes to the top of his head, his fists clenching tighter with every giggle Akia managed to elicit from him.

It was an awful and perverse thought, but Sheik found himself wishing _he_ was the one making Link utter those hoarse exclamations of surrender and defeat, to have _his_ hands roaming all over the older boy—

He forced himself to look away, focusing on Zelda and Aveil, who were deep in discussion on the political history between the Gerudo and Hyrule. It was a riveting discussion from a historical perspective, he was sure, but he was far too preoccupied with ensuring that no improper contact or words were exchanged between the two. There was no if or but about—Zelda was smitten with Aveil, and his every attempt at discouraging it was met with a fierce glare and a stubborn silence from her whenever they were alone. He wondered if she had given any thought whatsoever to the possible ramifications such a relationship would have, but she gave no such indication.

Princess Aveil, on the other hand, _clearly_ knew the upset she was causing him, and was milking it for all it was worth. He had no idea what he'd done to earn her ire, but she kept doings things she knew would be upsetting him (and everyone else who knew what was going on, including his mother). Secretive glances and gentle caresses—all a ruse to annoy him, he was sure...or manipulate the princess, which was even less acceptable.

His mother had not been happy to hear about this attempt at swaying Zelda. She had immediately ordered Sheik to keep an eye on things and not let them progress beyond what was commonly acknowledged as a "normal friendship", whatever the hell that meant. He took that to mean that nothing beyond handshakes and friendly hugs was worth worrying about, but...at the same time, he couldn't help but worry that Aveil was playing some sort of game that Zelda didn't understand...and that only made him angrier.

She had no right. That was the end of it.

...but then, a small, rebellious, traitorous thought told him, who was his mother to argue on this point? It was clear that something entirely inappropriate was taking place between her the king. It was subtle enough to escape the notice of everyone else (or so he hoped), but Sheik knew his mother's routines well enough to notice whenever a single one of them was out of sync with the rest. He knew when she went to bed, when she woke up, when she broke her fast (and what she broke it with)...every single minute of her day was usually accounted for...except the ones that weren't.

The nights on which she didn't return to her chambers after escorting the king to his. It was painfully obvious where she spent them.

He'd considered confronting her about it, but so far the courage to do so had abandoned him. Zelda was aware of it was well, along with Aki and Link, but so far only Zelda and Sheik were the ones to attempt to stop it. For everyone's sake, really. The reaction to such a relationship becoming known to the general public...Goddesses knew what would happen. They were putting far more at risk than Zelda was with Aveil, that was for damn certain...

...so who was his mother to talk?

Still, he didn't like the idea of Zelda falling under Aveil's thrall, so he tried to keep a vigilant eye on the proceedings, all the while fighting the urge to look out the window and watch as Link cooled off by dipping his head into the water trough and wrenching off his shirt.

...that was a different issue entirely. And one he had no idea how to approach.

He suppressed a sigh. Why did things have to be so complicated? At this rate, the only person who wouldn't be in some sort of trouble in the immediate future would be...well, presumably, only Ambassador Nabooru and her bodyguard, Ayla. They would be leaving with exactly what they came for.

* * *

Ayla muttered angrily under her breath as she marched the girl out of the tavern, her hand clamped around the other's neck in a vice-like grip. "...should know better...drinking ale and starting..."

"Ayla, it hurts," the other Gerudo whined, her words slurred and her legs tripping over themselves. "Let go!"

"I'll let go when we're back inside the keep," Ayla growled. "With luck, we'll be able to sneak you past Nabooru. If she finds out about this, you're in serious trouble."

"I didn't mean to—"

"This is the third fucking time I've had to come and stop you from picking fights, Ren," Ayla continued, angry. "This will be the last time, or we're sending you home. We can't afford to overstay our welcome by beating up random Hylians in taverns!"

"I didn't start those fights," Ren muttered sourly. "They did."

"You threw the first punch."

"Because they insulted Aveil!"

Ayla shook her head. What had started as a clever ruse to get Aveil out of Twinrova's reach was quickly turning into a ridiculous farce, because the guards who'd travelled with them were playing their roles a little to close to heart. She'd have to talk to Nabooru and convince her to bar the other girls from leaving the castle...or, at the very least, forbid them from drinking alcohol.

"Ayla."

"What?"

"I have to throw up..."

Ayla rolled her eyes and steered Ren into an alley, unceremoniously shoving her towards a secluded spot by a drain. "I'm not holding your hair," she said. "Hurry up so we can get back."

She ignored the very convincing impression of a camel's call and started to wonder how she was going to get Ren back inside the castle without causing too much of a ruckus. Her thoughts did not get far as three men suddenly slipped inside the alley. They were tall and rather tough looking, though clearly inebriated. She didn't like the looks on their faces when they landed on her and Ren by the drain.

"Well, well, well," said the biggest and apparent leader. "Found the thieves, didn't we?" he asked, slurring almost as badly as Ren had been. "We got unfinished business with yer friend."

"Whatever that business is, you can finish it in the morning when you've all sobered up," Ayla said, wishing she'd brought her scimitar...but Nabooru had insisted that none of them carry such obvious weapons when in the city. The populace disliked them enough as it was—openly carrying weapons wasn't going to improve their standing. All Ayla had on her was a curved dagger in a sheath behind her back, hidden under her jacket. "We don't want any trouble," she finished.

"Oh, but we do," said the least burly of the three, a lascivious grin on his face. "Quite a lot of it, actually."

Ayla wanted to groan. Drunk or sober, men were all the same. She glanced at the last man. He looked quite hesitant and nervous, and had probably only gone along with this because the other two pressured him into it. If she took out the other two, then...

"I'd rather not have to kill anyone tonight," she said calmly, fixing them with her fiercest glare. "There's no need for this. I will only warn you once."

"And we don't care," said the first one. He lurched forward and, with surprising speed, covered the distance between him and Ayla in less than a second, reaching for her arm. She stepped out of his range and ducked down, sweeping his legs out from underneath him.

She barely had time to back up before the second man was on her, aiming a clumsy, inaccurate punch at her face. She let it connect, turning her head _just so_ as to let the first slide harmlessly off her cheek, putting the man off-balance. She tripped him and grinned with some satisfaction at the sound of him crashing into a pile of crates.

The first man was trying to get back up, but her foot paid a sudden and snapping visit to his face, and he was down for the count.

"And you?" she asked the third, hesitating one. "Going to join your friends, or grow a brain and go home to sleep it off?"

He looked ready to do just that, but then his face darkened and he gave a loud, bellowing war cry before charging right at her. Ayla tried not to roll her eyes, trying to step out of his way, assuming he'd be too drunk to realise what she'd done.

She did not expect him to switch directions immediately and, with precision someone of his size and inebriation shouldn't have, decked her right in the mouth. It was an impressive punch. The jolt went through her whole body, and she was nearly _thrown_ backwards from the force. One of her teeth came loose, and her mouth was flooded with blood as she hit the ground, the back of her head bouncing off the cobbles.

Dizzy, she tried to sit up, but the man was on her then, straddling her while his hands closed around her throat.

"Fucking thief," he hissed. "I'll fucking kill you!"

His grip was like steel, impossible to dislodge. She tried to shove him off, but he was far too heavy, and her legs were trapped beneath his immense form. She couldn't get good enough leverage to throw him off, and the angle was too awkward to punch him in the face. She couldn't breathe—her chest burned with the lack of oxygen, and her vision was slowly darkening. This was not a good end. She'd wanted to die in battle, to—

"Let her go!" Ren shouted, smashing an empty, filthy bottle against the side of his head. It didn't have the effect she'd hoped for, because he merely growled and shoved her away, where she stumbled and fell on her arse...but that made him take his hands off Ayla, who immediately sat up and smashed her forehead into his nose. There was a crack, and a gush of warm blood spattered onto Ayla's face, but she didn't care. Swaying, she used his momentum to flip their positions until _she_ straddled _him_. Her vision was red now, the only thing on her mind being win or die, win or die, win or die...

He made an inhuman screech as she shoved her thumbs into his eyes, squeezing deeper and deeper into his eye sockets until something _popped_, blood and Goddess knew what else leaking between her fingers. He screamed and screamed until the sound grated enough on her nerves, making her reach for her dagger and neatly, in one move, slice his throat open, silencing the screams immediately and replacing it with a disgusting gurgling.

Panting, she climbed off him and viciously kicked him in the fork, regardless of whether or not he felt as he was busy dying. She looked to Ren, who was heaving on the ground.

"Are you all right, Ren?" she asked, the blood haze that had overtaken her for a moment now gone, the realisation of what she'd just done sinking in. This was bad. She could have left the fight at his broken nose, but she'd felt like she was in combat, and then whatever it took to ensure your survival...and that the bastard in front of you remained down.

"I'm fine," Ren said, bile climbing to the back of her throat. "You...you killed him."

"Yes," Ayla said, looking at her blade with horror. This would have consequences. She had just murdered a Hylian. Granted, it was self-defence, but she could have ended it much sooner and in a non-fatal manner.

There were another couple of groans, and she realised that the other two were still alive...and had seen what happened just now. Her mind raced with the possible consequences of this coming to light...and made a split-second decision. With absolute calmness, she walked over to the man entangled in the crates, covering his mouth with her hand and hilting her dagger in his chest. It only took a few seconds, and he too joined his friend in the realm of the dead. She repeated the process with the third one.

"Leave no witnesses," she told Ren, who was looking at her with horrified expression. "Hopefully, the Watch will think it's a mugging gone bad." She pulled Ren to her feet, pausing only to spit out the tooth that had come loose from the brute's punch, and began guiding her back to the castle. She was covered in blood and viscera—which meant they had to be even _more_ careful when entering the castle now.

"What if they find out?" Ren asked quietly.

"Then we're in deep shit."

Little did she know that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

* * *

**1072 - Sheik is fourteen, Link and Zelda are fifteen**

* * *

It happened as they were celebrating the first draft of the Hyrule-Gerudo Peace Accord. King Rhys had seemingly invited half of Hyrule in an attempt to make them see that Hylians and Gerudo could, indeed, coexist in peace, and to ensure as many people as possible got a chance to meet Aveil and her retinue.

"De-mystifying the unknown", he had called it, and so far it had seemed to go quite well. The members of the noble houses of Hyrule had the least trouble, having quite a bit of experience in politics and knowing when and how to act, if not politely, then at least civilly with people they disliked. The merchants and other commoners still found the desert women intimidating, and some were outright hostile, but the guards were there to keep things peaceful.

It was an...interesting night, to say the least, but necessary if proper trade and relations between the two peoples were to be established.

Iana was standing in front of the mirror in her chambers, staring at her reflection. She'd be expected to join the party soon, standing behind Rhys to ensure his safety, but so far she was finding it difficult to even leave the room. She couldn't spot any changes in the mirror, but she could definitely feel them.

This was a disaster. How could this have happened?

She heard someone outside her door, knew who it was by the sound of their knocking. "Come in, Sheik," she said. Her son entered and closed the door behind him, looking hounded. "Where is Zelda?" she asked.

"She and Aveil are powdering their noses, or so they said," Sheik said, grimacing. "I'm failing, Mother."

Iana shook her head and chuckled. "Truth be told, _kare_, I don't think we ever stood a chance at winning in the first place. When Zelda is determined, nothing can stop her, and I believe Princess Aveil is very much the same way."

"But what about the consequences if they...do something?" Sheik asked. He tugged at the collar of his uniform. It might be the last time he'd ever have to wear it, if Rhys had his way and went through with his announcement at the end of the evening. Sheik's reaction would be...interesting. Whether that would actually happen _now_, though, she was unsure. She needed to tell him soon...

"They won't go that far," she replied confidently. "I didn't raise Zelda to be that stupid, and Aveil knows better."

_Especially since she isn't a princess at all, and surely knows what will happen if impropriety takes place,_ she thought.

Sheik gaped at her. "Mother, you can't speak of Zelda like that!"

"What, that she isn't stupid?" Iana frowned. "Sheik, are you saying she is—"

"No!"

"Well, then I don't know why we're having this conversation."

He gritted his teeth and was surely resisting the urge to knock his head against the wall, much in the same way he did whenever Aveil scored another victory against him. "I will still keep an eye on the situation," he finally said.

"You do that, _kare_."

Sheik paused. "Mother...are you all right?"

She blinked. "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"It's just...you've seemed distracted all day. Is it the party? I have already gone over the security plans with the guards several times, and—"

"I'm just having an off-day, I think," she said to stop him from reciting the plans once more. It would take hours at this point. "I am fine, I assure you. The Rinirs?"

"Deep in discussion with Lord Layr, last I saw them," Sheik said, unable to keep a scowl from forming on his face. "He _really_ wants Akia to marry one of his sons, and Link—er, Kerran, to marry any eventual daughters he might have."

Iana couldn't help but feel that the head of House Layr was barking up the wrong tree in regards to Akia. The girl seemed to have no interest whatsoever in inter-house politics or arranged marriages. And as for Kerran...well, Goddesses knew what he would end up doing. He had a penchant for fighting, and Iana could easily imagine him as a soldier, or a knight.

"I wish him luck in his negotiations, then," Iana said, trying to affect a cheerful tone. "He will definitely need it."

"My thoughts exactly." Sheik was examining her closely now, realising that _something_ was off. Whatever he suspected, he did not air them. "I suppose I should go see if Zelda and Aveil are back yet. Shall I tell the King that you will be joining him soon?"

"Please do, _kare_. I will be there in a few minutes."

When he was gone, Iana heaved a heavy sigh and let her forehead touch the cool glass of her mirror.

_Try to put out one fire, and I'm rewarded with another three,_ she thought. _Goddesses, what did I do to anger you so?_

* * *

Zelda took a deep breath, every nerve in her body sparking as she tried to work up the courage she needed. She'd been putting it off for so long now, and if she didn't get it over with soon she was going to explode! There was no denying it, no confusion. It was clear as crystal.

She liked Aveil.

_Like_ liked.

She couldn't stop thinking about her, even though they'd seen each other mere minutes before. She dreamt about her at night—dreams that were far too vivid and...involved...to be anything but an expression of her inner desires...the desires she felt whenever Aveil graced her with a view of her unveiled face or touched her lightly, or hugged her...or the times she'd kissed her cheeks...

Her face warmed up with a blush at the mere thought of those. Her skin tingled as she imagined them, and she wondered what it would be like if those beautiful, full lips of Aveil's were to touch hers...

"Zelda?" Aveil asked, looking at her with concern. Zelda had asked to talk to her in private, and they had retreated to one of the unused parlours to, as they'd told Sheik, powder their noses. He'd accepted that, which was more than a little funny since neither of them wore any...but then, that particular area was one Sheik had little experience in, so perhaps he'd simply assumed... Aveil blinked. "Is something the matter?"

_Please take off that damned veil,_ Zelda thought, resisting the urge to tear it off herself. She cleared her throat. "Er...I...there's something..."

Aveil put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, not knowing how much worse she was making it. "Please, if there is something I can do to help..."

"C-Could you take off your v-veil?" she asked with a stutter that was most unbecoming of a princess.

Aveil raised an eyebrow, but did so...painfully slowly. Did she know what Zelda was trying to say? Was she doing it on purpose? "Zel—mmm!"

In the end, Zelda realised the words would fail her. Her mind was too muddled with conflicting thoughts and nervousness. And didn't it say somewhere that actions spoke louder than words? So she did the only thing she knew would convey her thoughts and feelings exactly, and pressed her lips against Aveil's. It was awkward and clumsy—Zelda had never kissed anyone before, only read about them in books and seen the ones exchanged by her father and Iana when they thought they were being stealthy. She moved her lips in the way she thought she was supposed to, all the while her entire body heated up with excitement and electricity, the act of kissing the Gerudo princess being everything she wanted it to be and more.

...but Aveil wasn't kissing her back. Zelda opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and drew slightly back, noting the more than a little surprised look on the other princess' face. "...Aveil?"

"What...what are you doing?"

Zelda's heart stopped. Of all the things she'd wanted to hear from Aveil after such an event, that was the last. "I...I..." she stuttered. Her face was burning with shame now. Of course Aveil didn't feel the same. All the things she'd done...they were probably perfectly normal in the Valley—just friendly little actions. She'd been...so wrong...

She stood up and gave up trying to speak, her eyes already welling up with tears of embarrassment and disappointment. Damn her for getting her hopes up! She made for the door, but stopped when something was holding her in place. Aveil's hand on hers.

"Zelda," Aveil said, her tone warm. "I...I'm sorry. But this can't happen. It's not...not appropriate. And I don't feel as you do. If I gave you that impression, I'm sorry, but—"

"No, no, don't be sorry," Zelda said, laughing. Her voice cracked. "My fault, entirely. I didn't...I thought...I'm sorry for kissing you. I'll just go now..."

"Please don't," Aveil said, tightening her grip on Zelda's hand. "Don't go away. I don't think any less of you for this. You're my friend, and I love you. Just...not in that way. I don't want to lose you because of this."

_I don't know if we can go back to that,_ Zelda thought, unable to look her in the eye. She felt a single tear trickle down her cheek, and gasped when Aveil wiped it away so gently it only made more of them fall.

_"_Oh, _haway_," Aveil said sadly, drawing her into a tight hug. "I am so sorry... I would—"

Whatever she was about to say next was lost in the rumble and shaking as an explosion shook the castle. Plaster rained down on them from the ceiling, and they lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. Seemingly instinctively, Aveil curled herself around Zelda, as if to shield her from danger, and there they lay until the rumbling stopped...though the sounds were replaced by the unmistakeable din of steel clashing against steel, and screams of pain and death.

"What is happening?" Zelda asked as Aveil helped her to her feet. The Gerudo's eyes were hardened, her hand clenching and unclenching.

"We're under attack."

* * *

One moment he had been discussing a possible trade route for the Gerudo caravans, the next he'd been on the floor, his ears ringing and covered in wooden splinters and the remnants of the roast pig. The table he'd been sitting at was overturned, its contents spilled all over the floor. He was staring up at the ceiling, where large cracks had spread through the stones, and pieces of it were dislodging and falling down. He hoped they didn't hit anyone.

Rhys blinked, the merchant's face coming into view above him. His lips moved, but he couldn't hear anything. He tried to move, but found it difficult. The merchant held out a hand, presumably to help him up, but before Rhys could accept it, the merchant jerked as a crossbow bolt suddenly embedded itself in his throat.

Then another face turned up in his field of view. This one was masked, but he could see golden orbs peeking out from the behind the narrow strip that wasn't covered with cloth. The Gerudo had a bloody scimitar in her hands, and Rhys could only watch as she raised it in preparation of skewering him. It was only pure reflexes that had him reach for the knife he'd been using for his meat and thrust it upwards. It sank into his would-be assassin's thigh, causing her to drop the scimitar. Rhys tried to catch it, but his body was still not being particularly cooperative.

The Gerudo jerked the knife out of her thigh and, with her eyes narrowed with fury, crouched down and made to return the favour. She never got that far, something moving impossibly fast through her neck. There was a small spray of blood, and her head came off—neck cut clean through. His hearing was slowly beginning to return, and he realised that there was fighting afoot, with swords crashing against each other echoing through the hall.

"...hear me? Rhys...answer me you piece of..."

Iana's worried expression filled his vision just then, and he felt himself being pulled up by two pairs of strong arms from behind. He happened to glance down, and saw the reason for his lack of mobility—a large splinter of wood, as thick as his wrist, was embedded in his stomach, just below his ribs and to the left. He had no idea if it was a fatal wound or not, but he could tell that it would start hurting like a son of a bitch as soon as the shock wore off.

"Rhys!"

"I hear you!" he nearly shouted back. The look of relief on her face did not fill him with confidence. It looked that bad, huh? "What happened?!"

"They set off a bomb at the entrance to the hall!" she replied, pausing to engage another black-robed assassin that came at them. Iana felled her easily, slicing her open from shoulder to hip with Kazuya and kicking her backwards over the wreckage of the table. "Get the King to safety!" she ordered the men who were holding him up. "And call Doctor Kaura!"

This was brazen, even for the Gerudo. Had this been their plan all along? Lull Rhys into a false sense of security, and then launch a surprise attack on the night that should have been about peace? And did guest rights mean nothing to anyone these days?

"My daughter!" Rhys shouted.

"I'll find her!" Iana promised. "You two, guard him with your lives!"

"Yes, Mistress!"

Rhys allowed himself to be led away, behind the defensive line that the castle guards had established at the other end of the hall, back towards the staircase that led to the royal chambers. There were assassins everywhere—dozens at least, and more than a little skilled at their jobs judging from the way they were cutting down soldiers left and right. He didn't dare guess how many of his guests had been killed so far... His eyes widened, and he searched the room for Akia and Kerran, desperately trying to spot something green in the vast ocean of red his hall had turned into. He saw neither of them.

"You!" he said to the closest guard. "Send someone to find the Rinir siblings! Get them to safety!"

"Your Grace!"

He was exhausted, despite having done absolutely nothing. The blood loss must have been getting to him. His vision blackened, and then he was suddenly lying on his bed in his chambers. Doctor Kaura was looking down at him with a scowl, and gave him a resounding slap on his cheek.

"Stay with me, Your Grace," she said. "I need you to remain awake. I'm going to remove the foreign object, now. It's going to hurt."

"Do it," he gasped.

"You, hold him down."

Strong arms seized his shoulder and kept him from moving...a wise decision seeing as the pain of the doctor removing the debris from his gut was unlike any he had ever felt before. Inch by bloody inch, the damn splinter came out, and he wondered just how big the thing was. Several inches at the very least. When it finally came loose, he couldn't bear to look at the sheer _hole_ in him it left behind. Was he screaming? He couldn't tell. His hearing was gone once more, replaced by the fast thrumming of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins.

"Shit, he's going to bleed out if we don't stop this," he barely heard Kaura's voice say. "Gauze, now! And wipe away the blood; I can't see a damn thing in there! Stay with me, Rhys! This is _embarrassing_ thing to die of!"

"I hadn't given it much thought," he said, feeling faint. It was like someone was digging around in his insides...which they probably were.

"Whiskey, and lots of it," Kaura ordered.

"Where?"

"No, not in the _wound_! You'll make things worse! In his mouth, damn it!"

* * *

She should have known things were too good to be true. Of course Ganondorf wasn't interested in peace. He just wanted to give his underlings an opportunity to get close to Rhys and kill him. Iana had been vigilant at all times up until now, when she'd maybe, just maybe, started believing Nabooru's spiel about a glorious, peaceful future, and let her guard down for a moment, they'd struck.

The explosion had killed off most of the guards in the hall and a great deal of the guests, but that had made it difficult for the assassins to move around, which had allowed her enough time to get to Rhys' side. She'd panicked upon seeing the splinter in his stomach, but surely Kaura would be able to save him. Hardly more than a flesh wound, she'd say.

Movement to her side. Iana ducked under the blow of a black-clad Gerudo assassin and used the woman's own momentum against her, slamming her face-first into the stone wall. Two more strikes and a loud crack, and she let the assassin slowly slide to the floor, leaving a bloody streak down to the floor.

Surprising as the attack had been, the assassins were no more skilled than the average Gerudo fighter, which surprised Iana in no small degree. Surely Ganondorf would have sent his elite to ensure Rhys' demise was guaranteed.

She didn't even spare the next attacker a glance, dodging the blow and kicking her hard in the head and moving on. She had to find Zelda. Sheik had said she and Aveil were powdering their noses in one of the parlours.

Aveil...

She quickened her step into an outright run. Zelda was alone with one of the assassins!

* * *

Sheik gasped when a foot connected with his chest and shoved him backwards. He stumbled over one of the dead bodies on the floor and tumbled, barely able to regain his footing before he was nearly cleaved in two by a large, two-handed scimitar. He moved just barely out of the way, felt the tip bite into his cheek. It wasn't a deep cut, but it drew blood all the same.

"You're fast, blood-eye," the Gerudo said, laughing. "But not fast enough!"

For such a big weapon and being a relatively petite woman, she was remarkably fast with it, easily dodging and ducking out of the way of every blow he aimed at her, which was risky because of the lack of reach offered by his daggers. He had to get up close and personal, and every time he did he came close to losing his head.

"Come on, stop moving," the Gerudo taunted. "Let's end your pathetic line once and for all!"

Growling, Sheik decided on a risky move. Charging forward, he threw one of the daggers directly at her. It made her flinch and bring the scimitar up to parry it away. It left her middle wide open, and while he was nowhere near fast enough to make a stab for it with a dagger... He jumped, planting both his feet on her chest and kicking as hard as he possibly could. She flew backwards with a pained groan, landing at the feet of one of the castle guards, who promptly finished her off with a stab of his blade. He gave Sheik a nod and continued on his way, engaging the closest attacker.

Sheik retrieved his dagger and picked up one of the fallen guards' sword. It was bigger and heavier than the slender blades he was used to, but he needed something with range.

He'd been close to the explosion when it was set off, waiting for Zelda and Aveil to return. He'd luckily been shielded from the blast by the pillar he'd been leaning against, but it had taken him a good few minutes to gather his wits and realise what had happened. He'd immediately set to get back to Zelda, but had spotted his mother stalking in that very direction after making sure the King had been taken care of. She could handle things. He hoped.

He couldn't see Link or Akia anywhere, which worried him. He was thankful to not see their bodies on the floor of the hall, but where could they possibly have gone otherwise?

An assassin came screaming at him, and he lifted the heavy sword and clumsily parried her blows. It took so much exertion his entire body stiffened up, and he felt the cut on his face tearing more and more open as he steeled his jaw. The Gerudo overstepped, and Sheik took the opportunity to slam the sword's hilt up and into her chin. She went down like a sack of potatoes and did not get back up, allowing Sheik to move on. He left the hall and entered one of the many side corridors. The fighting had spread even this far, and he wondered just how many assassins the Gerudo had managed to sneak into the place.

He hoped Link and Akia were okay. If they had been hurt...or if they'd touched Link, he'd...

He was too caught up in his thoughts to see the spear coming. The throw was clumsy, but it struck true. A blinding pain shot through his left knee, and his entire leg went numb as he collapsed with a pained scream. Landing on his stomach, he knocked his forehead on the floor, and his vision blurred as he tried to see what the hell had happened. The spear stuck out of his leg in a grotesque display—buried so far in the back of his knee he was almost surprised to see it hadn't gone all the way through the kneecap. He tried to pull it out, but the movement required was agonising.

"Look what I caught," the one who'd thrown the spear said in a singsong voice. "A little blood-eye...shouldn't have strayed so far from your mama."

Sheik tried to crawl away, but the attacker grabbed hold of the spear and pushed it all the way through, pinning him to the floor and eliciting another scream from the boy. Tears from the pain flooded down his cheeks as he stared up at his attacker.

It wasn't a Gerudo. It was one of the castle guards. One of the ones who'd never taken well to being ordered around by Iana.

"Why are you doing this?" Sheik managed to gasp.

"Because your kind doesn't deserve to live," he said with a sneer. He wrenched the spear out of Sheik's leg, angling it to stab it through his chest. "Any last words?"

"Let him go!"

Sheik had never been happier to hear Link's voice, and to see both him and Akia standing at the other end of the hall, armed to the teeth, made him feel pure elation...though that might have been from shock as well.

The guard didn't drop his sneer or his spear. "This has nothing to do with you, Rinir," he said. "Turn around and walk away. I'm doing us all a favour here."

"Let him go, or I'll take your head and mount it above the city gates," Akia said with a growl, taking a step towards him. They'd both acquired shields, and their swords were bloody. They were not a pair to take lightly. The guard angled his spear so it pointed at Sheik's throat and jerked it closer.

"Stay back, or I'll shove this in his neck!"

"Why should we if you're going to kill him anyway?" Link asked, taking another slow, deliberate step. "Let him go, and you can walk away with your life. Don't, and you're a dead man."

His voice was...cold. Filled with absolute fury. It left no doubt that he'd go through with his threat.

"What would you two know about killing anyone?" the guard asked, laughing. "Silk-sworn noble brats...you can swing your sword fancily, but know nothing about fighting. I'll have you both on your knees, begging for mercy when I'm done with you." He raised his spear, preparing for a thrust. Sheik saw death. Link and Akia were still too far away to stop him, and—

The shield made a high-pitched whine as it spun through the air. It struck the guard's hand and made him drop the spear. Sheik took the opportunity to kick upwards with his healthy leg, hitting him straight in the jewels. He squealed, but it was cut off as Link barrelled into him and knocked him to the floor.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed, slamming the pommel of his sword into his face over and over again until it was a bloody pulp.

"Sheik, here, can you stand?" Akia was at his side, face paling as she looked at the ruined mess that was Sheik's knee.

"N-No," he said, tears of pain still flooding his eyes. "It hurts..."

"All right, lean on me, then. Link, give me a hand."

The guard had stopped moving. Link was panting hard, throwing his sword away and immediately coming to help them. "I'll take him," he proclaimed, easily lifting Sheik up and pulling his arm around his shoulder. "You cover us, Aki."

"Right."

"Where are we going?" Sheik asked, barely able to keep his bearings straight.

"To find somewhere safe."

* * *

"Who the hell _are_ these people?!" Nabooru shouted, punching an assassin hard in the face.

"Twinrova!" Ayla replied, easily beheading her own attacker. "Trying to put a wrench in the works of the peace agreement!"

The attack had been swift and efficient. Nabooru and Ayla had immediately tried to retreat to Aveil's location with their delegation, but the assassins had cornered them, and of the five of them, only the two of them remained. Goddess knew where Ren had gotten off to.

"Damn them!" Nabooru growled as her scimitar was knocked out of her hands. She ducked under the next swing and grabbed the assassin's arm, wrenching it around and over her back, pinning her to floor with her arms around her neck. She gave a savage twist and snapped her neck. "We can't afford to get bogged down here! Where's Aveil!"

"I saw her and the princess head that way!"

"Then we push!"

* * *

Iana's worst fears were confirmed when she saw that the door to the parlour had been knocked down, and the sounds of fighting coming from within. She charged through the doorway, and launched herself at the closest adversary. She never saw it coming, Kazuya ending her life with a single stroke. She tried to locate Zelda in the muddle...and froze.

Zelda and Aveil were fighting...together! They stood back to back and were holding off the assassins. At least two dead bodies lay at Aveil's feet, while Zelda seemed to prefer wounding her opponents; several assassins keeping their distance while clutching wounded limbs. Iana made short work of these stragglers and then continued with the healthy ones.

Unprepared for the sudden onslaught at their backs, the assassins were soon all dead, leaving the Iana to stare at the princess and the "princess". She pointed Kazuya at Aveil. "You, drop your weapon and step away from the princess," she growled.

"Iana, Aveil isn't—"Zelda began.

"Do as I say, or I'll send you to join your fellows on the floor," she growled again, stepping forward.

"Very well," Aveil said, panting and dropping her scimitar, taking several steps away from Zelda.

"Zelda, come here."

"No." The princess glared at Iana. "She saved my life. When these people burst in, we weren't armed, but Aveil took them down with her _bare_ _hands_, Iana! I'd be dead without her!"

"And it hasn't occurred to you that she still be playing you for a fool?" Iana asked. "Zelda, she isn't even a real princess!"

Zelda paused, eyes widening as she looked to Aveil, who was staring at her feet. "What?"

"Ganondorf doesn't have a daughter," Iana continued, glad to see she was finally getting through to her. "He doesn't have any children. They've tried to pass her off as their princess to avoid the hostage situation becoming an issue."

"You're...not the king's daughter?" Zelda asked, her voice quiet.

Aveil refused to look up from her feet, but shook her head. "No, I'm not, _haway_." When she raised her head, she was looking at Iana rather than Zelda. "Please, Mistress, I would never harm her, nor would I—behind you!"

Zelda gasped. "Iana, look out!"

Time seemed to slow, and Iana felt the presence behind her before she saw it. One of the assassins had been playing dead, and now stood behind her, sword raised and prepared to take her head off. It was too late to react. No matter how fast she moved, there was no avoiding that blade.

...she'd never even gotten to tell him...

The assassin gasped, the sword slipping from their grasp, and crashed to the floor with Ayla's scimitar buried deep in her back. Nabooru stood just behind her, similarly armed. Outside in the hall, there was the sound of heavily armoured soldiers approaching the parlour, surely following the trail of bodies Iana had left behind. They'd be here in seconds.

"What's going on here?" the ambassador asked, surveying the carnage in the room. "Aveil, are you all right?"

Aveil looked at her guiltily. "They know, Nabooru."

"Know what?"

"About...me..."

Nabooru turned to Iana immediately, a placating smile on her lips. "Surely this is misunderstanding, Mistress Iana, I—"

"Shut up," Iana snarled. "I'm of a mind to kill every single one of you, but..." She glanced towards the door just as the first castle guards entered the parlour, looking to her immediately for clarification.

"Mistress, are these Gerudo...?" the first soldier asked.

"No immediate threat," Iana said, glaring at Nabooru. "Place them under arrest, captain. Put them in the dungeons."

"Iana—"Zelda began.

"Be silent, Zelda," Iana snapped. "I am not taking any chances. Any Gerudo that is still alive is to be arrested. Put them in separate cells and ensure they're all disarmed."

"Nabooru?" Ayla asked, looking ready to engage the guards.

"Stand down, Ayla," the ambassador said. "We're outnumbered anyway." She looked at Iana. "I assure you, Mistress Iana, we knew nothing about this attack. They tried to kill us as well."

"So you say," Iana replied noncommittally. "We'll soon find out. Take them away, captain." She held Zelda's glare with one of her own as Nabooru, Ayla, and Aveil were disarmed and led away.

"They're our friends," the princess muttered.

"They just attacked us, princess. Your father's been injured."

"What?"

"Come, I'll take you to him."

"...okay..."

The girl was exhausted. That was easy to see, and Iana wondered if she should be steadying her as she led her out of the parlour and back into the hallway. The attack had failed—there were no more sounds of fighting, and armoured guards had appeared everywhere, securing every last foot of the castle. They were halfway to the great hall when they spotted Akia running towards them full speed. Iana was glad to see her well. Her tunic had been stained with blood, but no injuries on her were apparent. The expression on her face was worrying, however—fear and panic.

"Mistress!" she gasped, nearly keeling over from the lack of breath.

"Akia, is your brother all right?" Iana asked, giving her a once-over to make sure she was unhurt. "Is Sheik with you?"

She'd been wondering where her son had gotten off to during the attack, but had shoved her worry aside. Sheik was more than capable of handling himself, and she'd had to make sure Zelda was well...but now those worries were coming back, pricking at the back of her mind like needles. Her stomach lurched when Akia's face twisted into a grimace at the mention of his name.

"Akia," she repeated slowly. "Where is my son?"

"He's...he's been hurt."

* * *

Iana sat at Sheik's bedside, brushing his golden bangs out of his eyes. He looked so peaceful... It was a blessing Kaura had decided to knock him out with one of her drugs. The surgery had taken hours, and there was no guarantee the leg would ever heal properly, even with copious amounts of red potion. Kaura was an excellent doctor, but even with her skills chances were Sheik would be a cripple for the rest of his life. It was a good thing the sadistic bastard traitor who'd done this to him was already dead, or she would have found new and creative ways to make the short remainder of his life as miserable as possible.

She touched the bandage that covered the wound on his cheek. This was the first real battle he had taken part in...

There was a soft knock on the door, and she had to wipe the moisture from her eyes before answering it. "Enter," she said softly.

It was Kerran. He hovered uncertainly in the doorway, eyes straying towards Sheik. "Mistress Iana," he greeted.

"Link," Iana greeted back, using the nickname the kids had made up for him. It was unusual for her to use it, but she felt it was...proper to do it, since he and Akia had saved Sheik's life. "What can I do for you?"

"Doctor Kaura asked for you," he replied, not even pretending anymore and staring directly at Sheik. "She's with the King." He hesitated. "How is he?"

"Still asleep, as you can see," Iana said, giving him a sad smile. "And will be for a while yet, I believe." She stood up, hating the idea of leaving her son alone, but if there were complications with the King...

"I'll stay with him, if you'd like," Link said.

"That would be kind of you, Link. Thank you."

She left Sheik in the care of the youngest Rinir, confident that if anyone would protect him, it was Link. It was a short walk to the Rhys' chambers, but she dreaded every step there. She passed by Zelda's chambers, and heard her and Akia's voices from within. The princess was upset, Akia's tone placating. She hated Iana for having Aveil and the others arrested, but what other choice did she have? There were too many suspicious leads, too many coincidences...no, the Gerudo would not be released until she had some answers.

...but they would have to wait, because right now she had to ensure the safety of everyone else. It didn't matter. Nabooru and the others wouldn't be leaving those cells anytime soon.

"Ah, there you are," Kaura said immediately as Iana entered.

"How is he?" Iana asked, noting that Rhys was sitting up in bed, seemingly alert though slightly pained.

"He will recover," Kaura said with a sniff. "Splinter didn't cause any internal damage as such, though he will probably be in some amount of pain even after it heals. I've tried to repair the abdominal muscles the best I can, but it's entirely up to his body how well it'll heal. Red potion will help, of course." She sighed and removed her spectacles to rub at her eyes. She'd been up for hours and hours, now, and Iana was surprised she hadn't collapsed with exhaustion yet. First she'd stabilised Rhys, then tried to repair Sheik's knee, and now she'd gone back and finished up with Rhys again.

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Rhys said.

"And you'll stay there until I say otherwise," Kaura warned.

"You should get some rest," Iana said, noting the slight wobble in Kaura's stance. "I daresay you've earned it."

"Soon," Kaura said. "I have one more examination to perform, and that's why I called you here."

"Me?" Iana asked, knowing exactly what was coming, but wanting to avoid it. "I'm fine, I—"

"You're not fine until I say you're fine," Kaura said dismissively. "Now, strip and sit on the bed."

Both Rhys and Iana blanched, the king's eyes bugging out as they began to speak at the same time.

"I don't think—"

"That's not—"

"Oh please," Kaura said, snorting. "You two are the worst kept secret in the entire castle. You've both seen each other naked plenty of times. Strip. Sit."

"Are we that obvious?" Rhys asked, his face burning no less than Iana's as she removed her shirt and bindings, sitting on his bed with her back firmly towards him.

"Painfully so," Kaura confirmed. "I'd tone it down, lest you cause even more of a scandal than you already have...or will." She pulled out her stethoscope and other instruments and went about taking measurements and listening to Iana's heartbeat. "Any unusual pain?"

"No."

"Nausea?"

"Not...more than usual."

"Hm...and during the battle? Were you being careful?"

"Of course—I'm not stupid."

Iana wondered how long they'd be able to dance around the subject. Rhys really had no idea, despite the nature of the questions. Perhaps they'd be able to avoid it entirely, and she could find a more proper moment to—

"Why would she be nauseated?" Rhys asked. He was probably on a heavy dose of painkillers, his voice calm and melodious. "She's been in battle before."

"That may well be, Your Grace," Kaura said, gently touching Iana's stomach, and listening to it with her stethoscope. "But I don't think it's the sight of blood that would trigger it in this particular case. That's all up to the little one."

Rhys laughed. "Little one, heh...yeah, I can see what you mea—wait...little one?" He looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

Iana felt her stomach plummet. "A little nausea now," she said quietly.

"Gods, you two are the worst," Kaura muttered. "Right, as your physician, I am officially taking control here. Your Grace, your bodyguard is pregnant. As in, she is going to have a child."

Rhys' eyes widened. "W-What? Really?" he gasped. "B-But, who...?"

"Do you really have to ask, Rhys?" Iana said, rolling her eyes.

"I don't...I don't understand," the king said, sounding feeble. "We...we were so careful!"

"There's always an inherent risk," Kaura said with a surprisingly gentle tone.

"Goddesses...how long?"

Iana glanced down at her still flat stomach, the nausea building up. This wasn't how she'd wanted him to find out. Honestly, she wasn't sure _how_ she'd wanted this moment to go, but...it definitely wasn't like this.

"A month, perhaps," Kaura replied. "I am not entirely sure. I'm not the most experienced in this particular field, I'm afraid. I'd recommend finding a midwife as soon as possible." She replaced her instruments in her bag. "Nothing seems out of the ordinary," she said with a smile. "But I am officially now giving you the order not to exert yourself, because—"

"It can hurt the baby, I know," Iana finished. "I have been through this once already, you know."

"Over a decade ago, yes," Kaura said. "You never know the things you might forget. Now, I am going to check up on Sheik once more before retiring to bed. Good night, Your Grace, Mistress Iana." She nodded and left Rhys' chambers.

The silence that ensued was crushing. Iana didn't dare to turn around and look at Rhys again. She had never meant for _this_ to happen. They'd been so careful, ensuring that Rhys had...finished...nowhere near that place, but they'd still failed. She hadn't even been sure that Sheikah and Hylians _could_ conceive a child together, but the morning nausea had been far too familiar for it to be a coincidence. Kaura had confirmed it earlier that day...

"So..." Rhys began awkwardly. "We...we are going to be..."

"Parents, yes." Iana nodded, still not looking at him. "If you want me to leave, I will do so."

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "This is a political scandal waiting to happen. No matter how much you'll try to avoid it, your subjects will despise us for it." She rubbed her stomach. "I won't be able to hide it for very long. I could easily say it was anyone but you, but the rumours will abound..." She sighed. "The only way to completely preserve your image is for me to leave the castle...and even Hyrule, at that. Sheik is too weak to travel just yet, but once he recovers—"

"No."

She lowered her head. Of course. "I suppose keeping Sheik here is best—"

"I will not send you away like some harlot I had an affair with," Rhys said, sounding angry. "Why would you even think I'd do that?"

"You're the king, and—"

"And you're the woman I love," Rhys said firmly. Iana thanked the Goddesses he was kept immobile by his wound, or else he'd be doing something foolish at this moment. "I would never send you away, especially not if you're carrying my child." He tapped his sheet. "Look at me, Iana."

She did so reluctantly. Instead of a troubled expression, he merely had a serene smile on his face. He reached for her hand and tugged her closer. He kissed the top of it.

"I love you," he repeated. "I love Sheik, and I love our child. I will never send you, or it, away. Please, do not ever entertain such thoughts again."

"What will we do, then?" she asked.

"I do not yet know," he admitted. "I am still...reeling somewhat from this, but...we will figure something out. I swear it to you."

She wanted to tell him how stupid he was being, how he was running his family legacy into the ground...but she could not find it in her to do so, when he was being so...supportive. In fact, he seemed nothing but delighted at the situation.

"A Sheikah and Hylian child," he said, a stupid smile growing. "I wonder what it will look like..."

"Hopefully it won't have your crooked nose," she joked.

"Heavens forbid," he agreed. "Or your temperament."

"You love my temperament."

"I love _you_."

"...I know."

* * *

"I was worried, you know," Link said quietly, slowly stroking his thumb over Sheik's knuckles. Had he been awake, Link was sure the Sheikah would scoff and knock his hand away, but he allowed himself this little freedom while he was asleep. "When I heard you scream. Thought you were dying, and when I saw that guard..." He laughed. "You always manage to get yourself intro trouble, don't you? Troublesome Sheikah..."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I was going to tell you tonight, you know. It's taken me a long time to figure it out...well, I say _I_ figured it out, but really it was Akia...and she got tired of waiting for me to realise it, so she outright told me what was going on. Boy, did I feel like a fool. I realise what I've been feeling now, though...too bad I didn't get a chance to tell you before you got...hurt. No idea how you'll react now...or if I should even tell you. How appropriate will it be, huh, telling you that I want to kiss you and love you while you're...while you're in pain from having a spear driven into your knee."

He chuckled bitterly. "Goddesses, I'm an idiot. And a coward. I'm surprised Akia didn't beat my head in with this sooner...or Zelda, for that matter. Oh yeah, she knew too, by the way. Must have been so frustrating for them, watching me from a distance, being an utter idiot around you without realising why you made me feel this way...

"Big change, huh? From the time we first met? I called you a..._that_, and you broke my nose. Who'd have thought I'd end up feeling like this based on _that_?"

Sheik's breathing changed, and Link tensed up, but found himself unable to let go of Sheik's hand...because Sheik's fingers had locked themselves around his.

"I'll...break your nose...again...if you don't...shut up," Sheik muttered, eyes still closed, lips barely moving.

"You...you're awake?" Link asked, heart clapping faster and faster. Sheik wasn't supposed to have heard all that!

"Woke up from...the stroking...tired..."

"I'll go, then, and leave you in peace—"

"You'll go nowhere," Sheik said, fingers tightening around Link's hand. "Just...let me sleep...but don't...go..."

"O-Oh...okay." Link blushed, realising that Sheik still refused to let go. "Uh...just...how much did you hear?"

Sheik didn't reply at first, having seemingly gone back to sleep, but then a slight smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "All of it..."

"And?" He could swear his heart stopped as he waited for Sheik to answer.

"...hate it when...other people touch...you," Sheik grated out. "Only...I...should be able...to..."

"Only you," Link said with a nod, worried that his face would split in half from the huge grin that had broken out on his face. "Only you, Sheik."

* * *

She'd kept up a brave face until the door to her cell had been slammed shut, leaving her alone in the darkness. The cells under the castle were soundproofed, and she couldn't hear anything outside. Surely that meant...no one could hear her?

Aveil let her tears fall then. Zelda had been pained when Aveil had rejected her, but that was nothing compared to the pain _Aveil_ had felt at having to do it. Every nerve in her body had screamed at her to do the opposite, to claim the princess as hers...but Nabooru's words had gotten to her. It really could never happen. Even if Aveil _were_ a real princess, it couldn't happen. There was far too much at stake, and...

...and it would have felt like she was taking advantage. At first, the flirting had been for fun, but after a while Aveil had started to do it in earnest. The hilarity of pissing of Master Sheik was a huge bonus, but soon it had been all about the smiles and blushes she would get from Zelda. Beautiful, adorable, fierce Zelda...

"Oh, _haway_, I am so, so sorry…"

She would have liked to at least keep their friendship intact...but now that Mistress Iana had (rightfully) exposed her for an impostor...well, even that was unsalvageable. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it would harden Zelda a little bit. Make her stronger. She would be a wonderful ruler, about that Aveil was certain. But the pain...

She didn't like the cell...but at least no one could hear her scream.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**Long-ass chapter today. Hope you guys enjoyed it!**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	17. XVII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XVII  
**

* * *

**1072 – Sheik is fourteen, Link and Zelda are fifteen**

* * *

_"There's something you need to know." She had no idea why she was so nervous. After all, this was a happy occasion. Nevertheless, as he climbed off his horse, she found herself worrying. What if he didn't want it? What if he regretted all of it?_

_"Yes? What is it?" He smiled at her, desperately wishing he could kiss her. He'd always been nervous about doing such things in front of others. It was endearing. And it meant that she had him all to herself._

_"Inside," she said, taking his hand and leading him away from the others, who all seemed amused at the way he allowed himself to be led like this. He didn't mind. He had never cared for their opinions._

_It was raining again, turning the streets into muddy rivers that threatened to eat the boots of those attempting to traverse them with every step. Neither of them noticed, however, too caught up in each other to bother. Their attention was on the heat building up between their hands, the tightness with which they gripped each other. He hadn't been away for very long, but so much had changed in that little time._

_Well inside and sheltered from the driving rain, she allowed him to unwrap himself from his heavy travelling clothes, divesting herself of her rain cloak before making him sit by the fire to warm up. She sat next to him, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and they both simply enjoyed being with each other again. They sat like this for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of heat returning to their bodies. When she finally lifted her head to speak, he claimed her lips in a gentle, sweet kiss that spoke volumes of his longing and yearning for her. She smiled against his lips._

_"I've missed you," he said when they parted, smiling at her. "So much."_

_"And I you," she replied. "Especially after the news I've been given."_

_"News?" he asked, confused. "What news?"_

_The nerves struck her again, and she had to convince herself not to flinch in the face of adversity. Surely he would not be against it?_

_"I haven't been feeling very well lately," she said. "I've been nauseated in the mornings."_

_"Oh?" he asked. The sweet boy seemed to have no conception (hah!) of what had happened. It was sweet...but also made it more difficult to approach the subject._

_She shook her head, resting her forehead against his. "Are you really going to make me explain it? Very well...Alre, you're going to be a father." It was better to simply get on with it, rather than drag it out. His eyes widened to the size of saucers, and his hand (which had been stroking hers) fell to his side._

_"I...we...really?" he asked._

_"Yes," she replied, leaning back so she could study him properly. "It was confirmed a few weeks ago. It's the reason you were called back from the front. Impa felt it was best to tell you in person, and I agreed." She felt a little awkward right then. "So...yes...there we are. I am pregnant; we're going to have a child. Together."_

_Against her worst fears, a huge grin broke out on his face, and he practically crashed into her in his haste to hug her, strong arms wrapping around her in a tight grip (though not tight enough to hurt her or the baby). She grinned and hugged him back, kissing his neck._

_"I take it you're happy, then?" she asked._

_"Happier than I've ever been in my life!" he replied ecstatically._

_"Oi, what about our wedding day?"_

_"Well, obviously..." he hesitated. He'd walked into another of her traps. Even now, at this moment, she enjoyed luring him in like this. "I...I..."_

_"Easy, Alre, I know what you meant," she said, kissing him for emphasis._

_"You know I'll never be happier than I am with you...and our child," he said, touching her belly with a gentle hand. "Is it a boy or a girl?"_

_"We won't know that until it comes out, you idiot," she said affectionately. "Mana is a good healer, but she's not _that_ good."_

_He grinned. "Well, boy or girl, it doesn't matter."_

_"It better not."_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

_They kissed again. Her nerves stilled, she found herself quickly wanting to do things. Things that had led to this situation in the first place. However, she had standing orders, and could not ignore them. She sighed and separated herself from him, standing up._

_"Iana?" he asked, looking a little bothered._

_"Impa wants to speak to you," she explained. "Said to call her over as soon as I'd explained things to you. Might want to brace yourself—I have a feeling this will not be a happy conversation."_

_Her sister had a heart of gold, really, even if it was hard to see sometimes. She definitely approved of Alre as a husband for her little sister, but that didn't mean he was safe from her putting the fear of the Goddesses into him if he even as much as _dared_ to consider running off. Iana knew this, and so did her husband._

_Alre could not have looked more terrified._

* * *

"You seem to be doing fine so far," Kaura said, packing her equipment away. "Though I will emphasise that this is far from my field of expertise."

"Rhys is looking for a midwife," Iana said as she got dressed, cracking her neck. "It's slow going, however. This isn't exactly something he should be announcing far and wide, so he has to through different channels than usual. My network is useless in this regard."

"I can talk to some colleagues of mine in the city," Kaura said. She looked uncomfortable, further testifying to her inexperience with this field. It was surprising—Iana had assumed the other woman was as close to a walking encyclopaedia in all things medical one could possibly be. Granted, given her bedside manner, she should have realised this. The mental image of the purple-haired physician being _nice_ to expecting mothers was impossible to conjure up, and the results were unnerving at best. "They might be able to point you in the right direction."

"What if they talk?" Iana asked, tying Kazuya to her back. She never went without her ancestral sword these days. It had been two weeks since the attack at the party, and no further hostilities had occurred, but she would take no chances. "If word of...this...gets out—"

"They won't," Kaura assured her, fiddling with the case Iana knew contained the physician's set of custom-made scalpels. Apparently, she always had it within ten feet of her at all times. "If I tell them to keep quiet, they will."

"How do you know?"

"Because _they_ know what I will do to them if their tongues wag." A dangerous glint appeared in her eyes. "I've already had to discipline a few of the...wayward ones."

Iana suppressed a shudder. It wouldn't do to show weakness in front of Kaura, despite everything that had happened. "I see...well, I would greatly appreciate it, if it's not too much trouble."

"I'm giving a lecture tomorrow, I'll ask them then," Kaura said, shrugging. "Hardly any trouble at all." She paused, stopping her fiddling. "I suppose you're also interested in your son's progress?"

"Please," Iana confirmed. She'd already been to see Sheik at least twice that morning, but both times he'd been asleep. An infection had taken hold, and while Kaura was confident he'd be able to fight it off, Iana could not help but worry. She'd nearly lost him twice—thrice was unacceptable.

"His fever broke a few hours ago," Kaura said, sounding satisfied. "He'll be weak for a while, but it will hopefully not interfere with the healing of his leg."

"And the leg itself? Do you think it will make a complete recovery?"

At Kaura's frown, Iana's slowly growing optimism died a pitiful death. On good days, Kaura rarely smiled. That had taken a while to get used to. It made her a little unapproachable until one realised that, even if she didn't smile, Kaura wasn't necessarily angry or unhappy. It was when she frowned one should worry. That was when doomsday might occur at any minute. In this case, it did not promise good results for Sheik.

"I wish I could tell you with certainty," Kaura said, shaking her head. "It was a messy wound—the spear was evidently jerked around a lot. There are limits to what I can do to repair such extensive damage. I keep giving him remedies and red potion to facilitate it, but...again, it's too early to tell."

"He's in pain."

"Yes, and probably will be for quite a while yet. I cannot do much about it. If I keep giving him stronger painkillers, he will grow dependent on them to even be able to function. He is far too young for that. With time, he will grow used to the pain, maybe even be able to ignore it." She shook her head. "It may seem heartless, but I believe it is the best option. Of course, I will defer to your wishes on this, but please put yourself in his position before you decide. Or speak to him about it."

"I'm not asking you to drug him to within an inch of his mind," Iana protested. "He can't even read because of the pain—he can't concentrate properly. Surely there is something you can do about that?"

"Send in the Rinir kid," Kaura muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Like I said, I'd rather not give him the stronger opiates. I can look into the other options we have, but don't hold your breath on it." Kaura motioned towards the door, marking an end to their conversation. Iana wanted to push the subject, but realised that she not in a good position for arguing. "I'll have a word with my colleagues on this subject as well," Kaura said as Iana opened the door. "Until then, tell the boy to move as little as possible. Every movement will interfere with the healing process."

"Right, right."

Her mind buzzed with the possible futures that kept appearing in her head. With the revelations of the past month or so, she had absolutely no idea what would happen to her and Sheik now. First, they'd been in servitude to the throne, then free, then on the track to becoming the founding members of a new noble House...and now, she was carrying the king's child, and Sheik had been hurt, possibly crippled for life. Too much had happened in too little time...

She was not at all surprised to find Link in Sheik's room, sitting by her son's bedside. There was a serene smile on his face as he watched Sheik sleep, occasionally wetting and placing a cool cloth on his forehead. It was touching, to see him care for Sheik like this. It was a much closer friendship than she'd hoped for upon their first meeting.

"His fever broke," she quietly told the youngest Rinir. "All that remains is for him to heal."

"Will he?" Link asked, barely taking his eyes off her sleeping son. "He says it hurts and itches..."

"Sheik is a strong boy," she said, hoping she sounded confident. There was no point in placing worries on his shoulders as well. He'd done enough in saving Sheik's life. He and his sister both, really. She had to find a way to thank them. "He will not only heal, but be stronger for it."

Link smiled sadly at that. "You're not a very good liar, Mistress."

She tweaked his ear slightly. "You're supposed to play along, brat," she said. "I can't bloody carry the torch the whole way on my own."

"All right, all right, he'll heal," Link said, pushing her hand away. "He'll be running circles around us before we know what's what."

"Exactly." She glanced around the room. "Where is the princess?"

"With Aki in the drawing room," Link replied. "Talking about the Gerudo, I bet."

Iana frowned. Zelda had been...difficult ever since Iana had placed them under arrest and locked them up in the castle dungeons. They weren't being mistreated—far from it. They received regular meals, and the guards left them alone. Iana had yet to start the interrogations, her attention elsewhere, but she knew she'd have to begin soon, before Rhys broke under the pressure and wrote to Ganondorf explaining the situation. Zelda hadn't been allowed to see them—Iana had no intention of letting her, either, until she knew for certain whether or not Nabooru, Ayla, and Aveil had nothing to do with the attack, as they claimed.

And as for Zelda's infatuation...well, Iana hoped it was a simply a phase. If not...well, there wasn't much she could do about it apart from mitigating the possible damage such a scandal would wreak if it became public knowledge. Either way, she doubted Zelda would go along with whatever she decided anyway, so making any big plans was really just a waste of time.

At least Akia was there to stop the princess from simply rushing into the dungeons and releasing the Gerudo on her own. The eldest Rinir was a welcome change of pace compared to the other children Iana's life had been filled with. The Terrible Trio—Link, Sheik, and Zelda—were a handful on the best of days. Oh, they certainly _acted_ innocently whenever they knew there were eyes on them, but as soon as they knew they were alone, havoc ensued. They tried to drag Akia into their pranks as well, and she only _occasionally_ assisted them with their plans.

"No harm in talking about them, I suppose," Iana mumbled.

"Hm?" Link asked, blinking.

"Nothing, Link. Say, would you give me a moment?"

"Of course, Mistress. I'll go see what the girls are up to."

"Thank you."

He still hesitated on his way out, as if the idea of leaving Sheik struck him as a bad one. She didn't blame him. Sheik was his friend—it was only natural to be worried. She was glad Sheik had made such a good friend out of a boy who, had Iana failed to act, could very easily have been his worst enemy (discounting the average Hylian citizen, or a Gerudo thief with a grudge, that is).

She sat in the chair by Sheik's bedside, mirroring her usual position of the last few weeks. She took Sheik's hand in her own, not liking how thin he was growing. The infection had taken a heavy toll, she knew, and the next goal for the foreseeable future would be to fatten him up again—which, if the fates were kind, would not be too difficult...or so she hoped.

Sheik's breathing changed, and he let out a quiet, pained moan. His eyelids moved, as if he was trying to open his eyes, but not finding the strength. "Link?" he croaked.

"No, _kare_, it's me," she said quietly, hoping he'd fall back asleep sooner.

"Mother...apologies, I should—"

"—be resting, so there is nothing to apologise for," she finished for him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "I am sorry for waking you."

"Trouble...sleeping," he muttered, still unable to open his eyes. "Hurts..."

"I know, _kare_. Doctor Kaura is looking into finding a way to dampen it, but for now you must endure it." She leaned down and kissed his forehead, after which she remoistened the cloth and placed it there. The fever may have broken, but he was still quite hot—his body was hard at work. "And sleep as much as possible."

Finally, Sheik's eyes opened a crack, and his tired, dazed gaze found hers. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Iana paused. "Nothing," she said, wanting to kick herself for such an obvious lie. She was much better than _this_, despite how easily Link had seen through her previous one. She just hadn't expected Sheik to notice. Had it been anyone else, they'd surely fail to see how pale she was, and the slight tremor in her frame because of the near-constant nausea she was feeling today. But _of course_ Sheik, even in a half-delirious state, had homed in on the little details immediately. It was a testament to his training, but sometimes she wished he wasn't half as good as he was. "Just a little on edge," she continued hastily. "Don't know whether to expect another attack or not."

"Not for a...while," Sheik said, apparently accepting her explanation and closing his eyes once more, shifting slightly in his bed. A metal frame of sorts was keeping his injured leg immobile, but it had the unfortunate side effect of making it very uncomfortable to actually lie in the bed. "Attack failed...should take them a while to recover. Ask the ambassador."

"Ask her what?" Iana said, wondering what her son meant.

"Who they were," Sheik continued, words slurring as he was slowly overwhelmed by sleep once more. "Looked...different..."

"Different how? _Kare, _please tell...me..." she trailed off; realising Sheik was gone again, his chest rising and falling gently with his breath. "Hm...sleep tight."

She stood up, intending to leave, but a thought struck her. She would have to tell him about her...condition sooner or later. Knowing him, he would appreciate receiving such information sooner rather than later, but she could not help but worry that he would take the news badly. After all, she'd broken just about every major tenet that concerned the relationship between a Sheikah and their masters, flaunting the rules she had claimed were the very cornerstone of their society...which was somewhat true, but Iana had always believed in skirting and bending the rules rather than adhere to them as strictly as Impa had done.

Impa...

Oh Goddesses, what would _she_ say about this, were she alive to witness it?! There'd be blood, that was for sure, but Iana was unsure of whose. Probably Rhys'...or hers. Or both. There would have been no walking away from it without some form of punishment; that was certain.

And Alre...

A headache was rapidly growing in the back of her skull. How she wished she could turn back time and prevent _this_ little development...or...did she? Despite the trouble it would cause, despite the pain that might stem from this affair...she was not unhappy. She loved Rhys. She'd never admit that out loud, of course, and had never intended for it to happen, but it was just as true as the love she held for Sheik, and the little half-Hylian, half-Sheikah she was carrying.

She glanced back towards her sleeping son on the bed.

"You're going to be a big brother, Sheik," she whispered, so quiet there was no risk of waking him. "I just hope you'll love him or her as much as you love Zelda, Link, and Akia."

It wasn't a very good confession. For one, Sheik wasn't even conscious to hear it, but it lessened the weight she was feeling on her shoulders somewhat, and she supposed it was a start. She resolved to find a better way to tell him, at a time when he could actually think without being distracted by his leg.

She left the room, intending to speak with Rhys before attempting to placate Zelda for the nth time that week.

In the silent darkness of his room, Sheik's mouth worked itself into a frown that was exactly like his mother's, as he tried to process what he'd just learned.

"I bloody _knew_ it," he muttered, before _actually_ falling asleep.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**I have no idea how often the updates for this story will roll around from now on. I've just started a new job, and I find myself having very little energy for anything other than staring lazily at Youtube videos these days. Hopefully that will change as I get used to it, but until then I will apologise in advance for the slower updating schedule!**

**-Andy**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	18. XVIII

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XVIII  
**

* * *

**1072 – Sheik is fourteen, Link and Zelda are fifteen**

* * *

Nabooru glared at the blank paper on the table in front of her, as she had been doing for the past hour. The pen next to it was untouched, as was the pot of ink. She had no intention of touching any of these things, despite the fact that her hands had been unshackled, and that there was nothing else in the cramped, damp room to occupy her mind with. The paper was to be filled with a confession, if she had one to make. There was nothing to confess, and that damnable Sheikah knew it! She just liked to see Nabooru and her fellows squirm—some sort of delayed payback for all the years of constant warfare between their peoples.

Well, she'd be waiting long and hard for Nabooru to even _pretend_ to have known about the Twinrova attack before it happened. She'd be more than happy to explain their innocence, but Iana had not yet given her a chance to do so. So far, the only words she'd spoken to Nabooru were "Get up", "Sit down", and "Write your confession, and we'll send you home".

It would have been easy to fake a confession, ensure the safety of Ayla and Aveil, and then get out of Hyrule as quickly as possible, but that was unacceptable. Nabooru had a job to do, and she would not leave the kingdom before it was done. This was just a...minor setback. Granted, one that had seen King Rhys wounded, and apparently Iana's son crippled, possibly for life, but...

"Who am I kidding?" she muttered. Even if Iana could forgive Rhys' wounds, there was no way she'd ever let go of her son's. And it wasn't a Gerudo who'd done it—it was a damn Hylian with a stupid, unfounded grudge who'd taken the opportunity to maim him during the chaos of the attack. It could not have come at a worse time! And Nabooru felt bad for the boy—he was a Sheikah, yes, but far too young to ever have had anything to do with the bad blood between their two peoples. He didn't deserve that...

So, here she was, her mission most likely in tatters, but lacking the will to, essentially, sign its death sentence. They'd been _so_ close. The first draft was finished, all that was missing were a few pernickety details that would have been settled soon enough. And now... Did Ganondorf even know? Had the Hylians sent word to the Valley about this? Twinrova most would certainly know... Her eyes widened. This was bad. If Twinrova knew of the consequences of their attack (which may well have been their goal in the first place), then surely they'd use it to their advantage against Ganondorf!

Damn, damn, damn!

She wanted to knock her head against the desk, but that would accomplish nothing, and she knew she had to stay calm. If only she could get word to Ganondorf... To hell with her imprisonment, he needed to know what had happened so he wouldn't do something stupid!

As if on cue, the door rattled, and Iana entered the room, the door slamming shut and locking once more behind her. She paced around the small chamber for a bit, studying Nabooru closely before finally seating herself in the chair opposite of her, leaning her elbow on the desk. She was trying to look casual and relaxed, but there was a slight tremor in her, and Nabooru noticed that her skin was a little pale, and her eyes dark...

Interesting.

"Well?" Iana asked, adjusting the handle of her blade on her belt. Such a large weapon would be useless in these cramped quarters, but Nabooru knew it was just for show. Iana had more than enough smaller blades stashed away on her person for the sword to be absolutely unnecessary. It didn't matter either way, for Nabooru's legs were still shackled to her chair. The most she'd be able to do was to make a ferocious pounce, and then crash disastrously to the floor...presumably right on her face. "Are you ready to confess?"

Nabooru gave her poisonous look, narrowing her eyes. "No, because there is nothing _to_ confess. I knew nothing of the attack, nor did the other members of my delegation, nor did Princess Aveil—"

"You can drop the act," Iana said, glaring at her. "We know Aveil is not a princess. If you're not going to cooperate, at least have the courtesy of not sticking to a disproven lie."

"I am cooperating," Nabooru countered. She hadn't meant to call Aveil a princess—it had simply become a force of habit. That said, the girl had done an admirable job of pretending to be one...accidental or knowing seduction of Princess Zelda aside. "By telling you the truth. We had nothing to do with the attack—for Goddesses' sake, even _my_ people were murdered by the attackers!"

"Easily arranged when attempting to establish a believable cover," Iana said. "Hardly the first time such subterfuge has been carried out. And as for your delegation...you'll be interested to know that one of them is unaccounted for."

Nabooru paused. "What?"

"There is a member of your delegation missing," Iana clarified with a raised, condescending eyebrow. "She was not among the dead at the party, and she is nowhere to be found in the castle, nor the city."

Was it Ren? Nabooru could not recall seeing the girl in the castle at all one the day of the attack. Had she been part of the Twinrova attack? Surely not—Ayla had picked only people she trusted to bring along... Though, given Ren's history in Castle Town, Nabooru wondered if she'd been picked because she was _capable_, or if Ayla simply had a soft spot for her... Either way, if Ren was missing, there were only two options: She was either part of Twinrova and had possibly helped organise the attack, or...she'd simply not been there (possibly drinking in one of the taverns and picking fights with Hylians again) and gone into hiding when news of the attack reached the streets.

That would be difficult, being as distinctive among the Hylians as Gerudo were, but perhaps she'd gotten lucky and found someone willing to shelter her.

"So, would you care to explain that?" Iana asked, clearly seeing through Nabooru's thought processes. "Is she in hiding, waiting for another opportunity to strike, or...?"

"I...I do not know where Ren is," Nabooru said. On this, she did not mind confessing. If Ren was somehow involved, she needed to be caught before more trouble arose. If she was simply afraid and in hiding...well, Nabooru wanted her accounted for.

"Her name is Ren?" Iana asked.

"Yes. She was one of the members of the delegation picked by Ayla—and I trust Ayla's judgement completely."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not Ayla. Not in this." Nabooru shook her head. "Ren may have acted out a bit, but she would never turn on us or you. Sure, a few bar fights were started—"

"And three Hylians killed after a particularly vicious one."

Nabooru paused once more. "You knew?" she asked.

"We are no strangers to the occasional murder in Castle Town," Iana said, inclining her head. There was a light sheen of sweat on her brow, and it was definitely not because of the dampness of the castle dungeons. She was definitely nauseated. Interesting. "However, rarely do we find three relatively strong-looking men dead in an alley. Especially not ones whose eyes have been gouged out, and their throats cut. I was informed of it the same night it occurred, in copious detail." She leaned back, regarding Nabooru with a contemplative look. "I have eyes and ears everywhere. Nothing happens in this city without me knowing it."

"Then why didn't you have Ayla arrested?" Nabooru asked.

"Because I did not wish to upset the peace process," Iana said, shrugging. "And, from what I understood, the deceased started the fight, and your bodyguard acted out of self-defence...though I'd say slitting their throats after beating them so soundly was a bit overkill."

"Two of them saw the murder of the first," Nabooru said, wishing Ayla had shown some restraint that night. This really wasn't helping their case. "She had to silence them."

"Or reported the whole thing to me, and I would have taken care of it," Iana said. "I have...ways of making such things go away. All in the interest of peace, of course."

"Naturally."

"Though now I find myself wondering if I should be telling the king of these murders, which would only serve to further cement your guilt in this."

"Are there a lot of things you do not tell the king?" Nabooru asked innocently. "You seem to have an awful lot of secrets, Mistress Iana."

"Secrets are necessary in my business," Iana said, shrugging once more. "I inform Rhys of those I deem vital, and keep the rest close to my chest until they become relevant."

"So he already knows you're pregnant, then?" Now it was Iana's turn to pause, and that was all Nabooru needed to upgrade her educated guess to a confirmed fact. She grinned. "I'll take that as a no, then?"

Iana recovered quickly, smiling serenely back. "He _does_ know, in fact."

"And who is the lucky father?"

"That is one of the secrets I will keep to myself. Suffice to say, Rhys knows who he is, and he approves of him. That is all I need."

"I see...well, congratulations."

Iana's eyes narrowed. "I cannot tell if that is genuine or not."

"It's genuine," Nabooru said, replacing her grin with a sincere smile. "Children are to be celebrated. Despite our history."

"Ah...thank you, then." She cleared her throat, apparently very uncomfortable. That was good. It meant Nabooru was gaining some ground. She still had quite a bit of a hill to climb, though. "How did you know?"

"I've witnessed enough births and pregnancies to recognise the signs," Nabooru said dismissively. "Even helped deliver a few girls when the process began without a proper midwife present. As for you...well, it's the nausea that gave you away. Pale skin, tremors, sweating...granted, you could have food poisoning or ingested some foul concoction meant to kill you slowly and horribly, but I don't think a trained Sheikah would fall for such tricks...or be stupid enough to eat tainted food. So, that was my first guess, and it was correct."

An awkward silence stretched on for a minute or two. Nabooru had clearly managed to throw Iana off her perch, and the Sheikah was struggling to recover. She wondered how often such a thing occurred. Probably not very often. Iana was one of those people used to being in control of every situation, and suddenly finding herself off-balance was not something she'd been able to practice. Nabooru decided to press her advantage while it remained.

"I am sorry about your son," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I hope the culprit responsible was caught."

"Swift justice was dispensed upon him," Iana said hurriedly, voice tinged with anger. Clearly, mentioning Master Sheik had been a mistake. "And you will not speak of my son! Had it not been for you, the attack would never have taken place, and Sheik would still have been able to walk!"

"I did not mean to offer you or your son insult," Nabooru said, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "Only my sympathies."

"Neither of us want your sympathy," Iana hissed. "We just want the ones responsible brought to justice."

"And you're of the opinion that my girls and I should be?"

"It would be a start," Iana said with a nod. "Enough talk. Will you confess to your involvement in the attack, or will I have to throw you back into your cell?"

"I will not confess to something I did not do," Nabooru said firmly.

"Then we are done here for now," Iana said, rising. "I suppose I'll have to speak with Ayla and Aveil instead—"

"I said I will not confess to something I did not do," Nabooru repeated loudly, glaring at Iana. "But...I am prepared to offer information on those who did...though I am not sure how useful it will be."

"I will be the judge of that," Iana said, suspicion clear in her voice. She did sit down, however, and Nabooru became convinced that what she was about to do was absolutely necessary. It meant betraying an oath she'd sworn before leaving the Valley (to the King, no less!), but she had a feeling Ganondorf would understand. After all, it now concerned both the Gerudo and Hyrule. "Speak."

Nabooru sighed. "It is a long story, but it began many years ago, soon after King Ganondorf was born. Gerudo are usually raised by the collective—instead of one mother, they have many, as well as more sisters than they know what to do with."

"This is nothing new," Iana said.

"Well, it is usually the same for the one male who is born once every hundred years," Nabooru said, annoyed at being interrupted. "Our kings are taught different things, true, but they have by and large the same upbringing as their sisters."

"But not Ganondorf?" Iana asked, having guessed what Nabooru was getting at.

"But not Ganondorf," she said, nodding. "Nor his two predecessors. They were raised by a pair of sisters named Kotake and Koume. They were witches; two of the most respected individuals our society has ever produced. Our past two kings ruled well, but did nothing of note that wasn't continuing the war against Hyrule. However, with Ganondorf, things changed. I do not know when they decided to enact their plans, nor for how long they'd been planning it, but little by little they began to poison his mind. At the same time, they founded a hidden organisation among our ranks, whose purpose was to further hostilities between us and Hyrule, even working together with some of _your_ nobles to accomplish this. Their goal? Nothing but the utter destruction of Hyrule, and some rather nasty plans for the time after."

Iana said nothing, but she had gone very rigid in her seat, eyes focused completely on Nabooru, with not a trace of disbelief or distrust. Clearly, she knew something. Nabooru wondered what.

"For a while, I went along with Ganondorf's poisoned plans, not recognising his drastic change in personality for what it was, but I eventually started to suspect something was wrong. I went through Kotake and Koume's correspondence with out agents in the field, and there was one name that kept popping up, a name that seemed to be the codename of a collective: Twinrova." She shook her head at that, regretting how long it had taken her to catch on. "The annihilation of the Sheikah was another of their goals," she added, not sure why. "At that point, I understood what was happening, and decided to take action."

"When was this?" Iana asked, nothing but openness meeting Nabooru's words now.

"A few years ago," Nabooru answered. "I could not simply reveal this information to the Valley at large—I had no idea how many traitors there were within our ranks. I only told those I trusted with my life...which, sadly enough, numbered two individuals. Ayla and Aveil. With their help, I was able to ambush and assassinate Kotake and Koume, and burn their remains to ensure no one knew what had happened to them. It did the trick, and Ganondorf was freed from their influence."

"And that was when he began to sue for peace," Iana said, rising and beginning to pace around the room.

"He always intended to," Nabooru muttered. "But his mothers got to him before he could start the process."

The war could have ended so much earlier. That was the unspoken sentence in all this. Twinrova's plans could have been halted long before they actually were. The systematic targeting of Sheikah on the battlefields and on the road could have been stopped long before it was too late for them to recover. Iana and Sheik would not have been alone...

Nabooru held no love for the Sheikah. But then, she did not feel too charitable towards the Hylians either. She doubted she would have ordered genocide of either, though, even if she were ever given the chance.

"I have heard of Twinrova before," Iana said suddenly, as if trying to banish those heavy thoughts.

Nabooru blinked. "You have?"

"Some years ago, I...came across the paperwork of one of our nobles. His name is not important, but he had been corresponding with someone of that name for quite a while, actively working against Hyrule's interests. I assumed it had been some sort of contact within your intelligence organisation...but if what you say is true, then he was playing both sides against each other along with Twinrova." She began pacing once more, the tremors increasing. Another bout of nausea, presumably, though whether it was because of how disgusting this conversation was, or the baby, Nabooru did not want to guess. "I eliminated the man for his treason. And you say you eliminated the witches?"

"We did," Nabooru said with a nod. "But that only freed Ganondorf from their influence. It did nothing to destroy their organisation. If anything, it only served to fuel their zeal...and turn it on us. Multiple attacks have been carried out since then. Several months ago, there was even an assassination attempt on the King, though it was luckily averted. We hoped their actions would continue to be limited to the Valley, but..."

"The party."

"Yes, I very much fear Twinrova is responsible. To you, it would look like a normal Gerudo attack, and you'd imprison and possibly execute me along my delegation. Ganondorf would be infuriated, and possibly break the ceasefire. War would ensue once more, and Twinrova would be free to pursue their plans, whatever they have changed them to." She took a breath. Now or never. "He needs to be informed of the attack and who was responsible, before word reaches him about our arrest. Goddess knows how he will react to it."

Iana frowned. "Indeed, that would be disastrous. However, I cannot simply allow you to send letters indiscriminately."

"You are free to read them before I send them!" Nabooru said desperately. She had a sinking feeling that time was already beginning to run out, and while she had just blurted out a whole set of secrets she'd rather not share with anyone, much less a Sheikah, there was nothing she wouldn't do to ensure the worst possible scenario would not come to pass.

"I will definitely do so." The Sheikah headed for the door. "Write your letter, ambassador," she said. "I will speak with the king, and he will decide whether or not we send it by carrier bird."

"But—"

"It is a fine story you have told me, but I do not yet know if I believe all of it. I still don't trust you."

"What will it take?"

Iana gave her a look genuine regret.

"I don't know."

* * *

Rhys' mood, which was already foul since he was not allowed to be up and about, did not improve with Iana's report. The scowl on his face only deepened, and his fists clenched around his sheet. His wound was healing nicely, but there was still a great deal of pain, and being forced to stay bedridden only made things worse.

"Damn Gerudo," he muttered, glaring at nothing in particular. "It's not enough to have us at war for centuries; now that peace was finally on the horizon, they see fit to drag us into their domestic troubles. Ganondorf is a devious, devious man..."

Iana remained standing, choosing not to comment, instead moving on to the matter at hand. "From what I understand, Nabooru did not expect Twinrova to follow them all the way here. They seemed to have focused on causing internal strife rather than pursue more war with Hyrule."

"She was wrong."

"She was. And her own delegation paid for that mistake with their lives."

"Along with those of Lord Layr's eldest son, his wife, several other nobles and merchants, and a score of my guards," Rhys growled. "Forgive me if the fact that some of her own people were killed does not lessen my anger with her dumping their rubbish on our doorstep. Does she simply expect me to release her and look the other way?"

"Far from it; all she asks is to be allowed to send word to Ganondorf and inform him of what has happened. Word is bound to reach him of their arrest at some point. Do we not want him to know the whole story?" She began pacing around Rhys' chambers. She was doing that a lot today. It was one thing that they had a diplomatic crisis on their hands, but all this Twinrova business was disconcerting.

Lord Kolvar, Link and Akia's father, had been dealing with the organisation for years, but his correspondence had implied he wasn't the only Hylian to work with the Gerudo. Iana had been hard at work to uncover the other traitors, but they were far better at hiding their tracks than Kolvar, and so far she'd come up empty. She'd hoped it meant they'd simply ceased all dealings with the traitorous Gerudo faction, but now she could not help but wonder if the attack had been made possible by more than just stealth...

"And what if she codes something into the letter?" Rhys asked. "What if this is all just a big ruse to distract us from something even worse—like another invasion? They'd certainly get a foothold now that The Strip is more or less theirs...I shouldn't have relented on that issue." He slapped his forehead, which made his wound twinge and elicited a groan from the king.

"She would not be that stupid," Iana assured him. "I have no intention of letting her send any messages without examining them thoroughly myself. If I see something I do not understand or like, the message will remain unsent."

Rhys looked at her, eyes widening. "You're pale," he said, reaching out to her. "Come, sit down."

"I'm fine, Rhys, I—"

"Sit, or I'll get out of bed!"

She relented, perching herself on the edge of his bed. She ignored his outstretched hand. "I am perfectly fine, Rhys. If you act like this now, how will you be when the time comes?"

"Panic-stricken," he admitted, letting his hand drop. "Just like when Zelda was born. I'm sorry...I'm just worried."

"I know, but I still have a job to do. I cannot let...this," she placed a hand on her stomach, rubbing it carefully. "Interfere. Not yet."

"I was thinking about that, actually," he said carefully. "Perhaps...until after...it is best to let Kressen take over some of your duties?"

She gave him a dangerous look. "Are you implying I'm unable to perform to the best of my ability?" she asked.

"No, no, of course not," he protested. "I am just saying that...you're going to have...you know...and perhaps it would be best to rest as much as possible?"

"I am not an invalid, Rhys," she said with a glare. "I am more than capable of handling myself. I will refrain from fighting and sparring, but I have a slew of other things I can attend to in the meantime. This is one of them. Besides, Kressen doesn't know the meaning of subtlety—he's not ready."

Rhys nodded slowly. He knew better than to start an argument about this. "How are you feeling?" he asked instead.

"Like I said, I am fine," she reiterated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rhys, I am sure."

"Are you _really_ su—"

"Rhys, I swear to the Goddesses!"

He nodded. "All right. I believe you." A strange smile came to his face, and he moved a little away from her on the bed, patting the space next to him. "Come on."

"No."

"Please?"

"Rhys, I have a job to do—"

"It can wait a few minutes. Indulge your king."

With a put-upon sigh, she lay down next to him, trying not to enjoy the lingering heat in his spot too obviously. It was a chilly day, and it was quite nice to be able to have a bit of rest. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night, either—Sheik had been in so much pain he'd cried.

Sheik.

Cried.

He hadn't done that in years. She'd stayed with him until he'd fallen into an exhausted slumber, from which he'd yet to awake. She'd sent for Kaura later that morning, asking her to once more consider stronger opiates; just enough to allow him to sleep the whole night through. The physician had been reluctant, but agreed to once more speak with her colleagues in the city. Her first inquiry had not yielded results in that area, but not every doctor in Castle Town had been present.

A midwife, luckily, had been found and sent for, and she was on her way, due to arrive in a few weeks.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but her eyes had closed, and when she opened them again she found herself snuggling into Rhys' side. The king himself was asleep, a content smile on his face. She kissed the corner of his mouth and carefully untangled herself from him and stood up. She was happy she'd remembered to lock Rhys' door—no one had accidentally wandered into the room while she'd been asleep. They still hadn't settled on a story for the child that would soon become apparent for everyone to see, and if someone had witnessed this particular scene there would be no stopping the news from getting out of the castle.

But that was an issue she could not even consider at the moment. She left the king's chambers and wandered through the halls until she reached the door to Sheik's. Cracking open the door, she heard nothing but the calm, steady breathing of sleep inside. She blinked when she noticed there were two sets of them. Opening the door a little further, she saw that, once again, Kerran Rinir was at her son's bedside, having nodded off as well.

At first she'd been happy to know Sheik had such a good friend, one who refused to leave him when he was at his worst (and her son certainly _was_ in a foul mood these days), but this was quite above and beyond...

...and didn't that seem a little off?

She shook her head and closed the door. Heading back towards the dungeons, she briefly paused outside Zelda's door and considered knocking on it, but deciding not to when she heard the princess' agitated voice inside, briefly punctuated by a few calming words from Akia.

Iana had no idea how to fix this particular falling out. Zelda refused to speak to her other than the required pleasantries, and in a way she understood why, but at the same time...

...well, if Nabooru was speaking the truth (as Iana was hoping, if only for the headaches it would save her in the future), then perhaps there was some way of salvaging it all.

The Gerudo was staring hard at the paper in front of her when Iana entered the room, as if wishing the thing would burst into flame. She looked up at Iana when she sat down and reached for the letter.

"There are no hidden messages in it," she said, as if that would stop Iana from examining it.

"I will be the judge of that," Iana replied, giving it a cursory read. On the surface, it appeared to be straightforward. It informed Ganondorf of the attack on the castle, who Nabooru suspected to be responsible for it, that she and what remained of her delegation had been arrested but not mistreated, and that there was no need for rash actions until there were further developments. It would hopefully be enough to still Ganondorf's rage. "It seems awfully...blunt," she noted.

"The king prefers to be straightforward in his dealings," Nabooru explained. "That is why he sent me to negotiate in his stead. He seemed happy with my progress...until the attack, that is."

"You can guarantee he will not take hostile actions after receiving this?" Iana asked.

"Provided you keep the three of us alive and do not abuse us, yes. Ganondorf is not an unreasonable man...or, not anymore, at least. The removal of Kotake and Koume cleared his mind."

"We do not abuse our prisoners," the Sheikah said firmly.

"Then there will not be any problems." Nabooru hesitated slightly. "And...Ren?"

"I will redouble the efforts to find her," Iana assured her. "If she has simply gone into hiding out of fear, she will be placed under custody here and treated justly. If she is in any way connected to Twinrova, then I will personally interrogate her. I assume this is acceptable?"

"If she is Twinrova," Nabooru said, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone, "you'll have to protect her from us. We do not take lightly to traitors. Ayla, in particular, will be difficult to stop."

"Duly noted." She stood once more, folding the letter. "I will examine this more thoroughly and, if nothing suspicious is found, have it sent as soon as possible. Guards!"

The guards entered the room, regarding Nabooru with looks of blatant dislike. They wouldn't dare mistreat her, though. "Mistress?"

"Take the ambassador back to her cell," Iana said. "Afford her and her delegation every courtesy."

"Yes, mistress."

Things were getting incredibly messy, but for the first time in several weeks Iana could see at least one solid thread to follow. Hopefully, tugging a little at it would unravel the whole jumble. If she could get a good lead on Twinrova and their activities in Hyrule, then perhaps she might find out which of the nobles had been working with them before as well. Then she could put all this nastiness to rest...and _finally_ have time to figure out what she was going to do about her family's future.

Little did she know that her troubles had only just begun.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**This story really is getting out of control! I even had to change the summary to reflect this, heh...**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


	19. XIX

**Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.**

* * *

**Divergent Souls  
****XIX**

* * *

The Paragon. That was what he was called. It was a burdensome title, unfairly hoisted upon him as a child; one he had strived to live up to from the moment he understood what it truly meant. His upbringing became the responsibility of the entire village-an honour, they called it, to be allowed to have a hand in shaping the future ideal of their people. Did they truly believe this, or were they simply too ashamed to admit that they were making him a slave?

The life of a Sheikah was one of servitude, but even that meant having some degree of autonomy. Alre had none. From the moment he woke to the moment he fell into an exhausted slumber, every minute of every day was carefully scheduled and organised. Physical exercise and combat training in the morning, theoretical studies and language lessons for the rest of the day.

Every Sheikah with time on their hands participated in his education, and their discipline was harsh. The Paragon was to embody every virtue the Sheikah valued, among them strength, speed, stealth, wisdom, and a million others. Above all, subservience to the throne and the Royal Family, and the Clan. There was no tolerance for failure, which he learned quickly.

It was a wonder he did not break under the pressure. Contrary to what some expected, he more than rose to the challenge. In fact, he surpassed expectations, and there were more than jaw that dropped on the day, at fifteen years old, he defeated the clan's master-at-arms in single combat.

Unfortunately, that only meant that the expectations grew, and what should have been a moment of triumph became, in secret, one of regret.

They ran him ragged. If he could defeat the master-at-arms at such a young age, imagine then what he could do if only he were pushed a little further, a little longer.

Alre endured. It was all he could do. He had no choice.

* * *

The illness came suddenly, and spread like a wildfire among them. A deadly disease brought in from the Valley, or so they said. It was caught on the battlefield, and brought home by the returning warriors. To them, it was no trouble. Only children and the older members seemed to be severely affected. So many young ones died...

Why Alre, who at eighteen was already the strongest and the most able of them fell ill to such a degree, was a mystery.

One minute he'd been besting everyone on the training fields, the next he was in the mud, out cold and running a fever that could have set the kettle boiling.

His opponent at the moment he fell, the clan chief's oldest daughter, Impa, was at his side in an instant, and never once left it while he battled through the illness. She fed him, washed him, kept him awake when falling asleep could mean his death, and held him when the chills set his teeth chattering with imaginary hypothermia. The delirium saw him ranting angrily and threatening to slit the throats of anyone who came too close...except her.

Impa had never liked Alre. Whether it was out of jealousy because of the all the attention he received as a result of his (unwanted) part as the clan's future or something else, no one knew. No one asked. They were simply happy to have their Paragon nursed back to health.

It was the start of a friendship-one that none would understand. Perhaps it was their similar backgrounds. Impa was the clan leader's daughter. She was to take up the mantle of leadership one day, and she too was under immense pressure. A kinship could easily be forged under such conditions.

Stranger then, was the inclusion of Iana, Impa's younger sister, in that friendship. Little more than an afterthought in most of the Sheikah's minds, the leader's youngest became involved in everything the older Alre and Impa did. She trained with them, ate with them, studied with them, travelled with them. Soon, the three came to be thought of as a single unit in everyone's minds. It was no wonder-despite her status as second-born, Iana was far from unimpressive in ability. Of course, compared to her sister and Alre, she was no more impressive than the average Sheikah...

...and perhaps that was from where the slight resentment came. Or the looks that Impa and Alre had begun to give each other when no one was watching.

* * *

In the minds of the clan as a whole, it had only been a matter of time. A natural progression, they called it. After all, why shouldn't the Paragon and the future clan leader be joined? Impa was a prodigy, and that could only mean that the child she bore forth with Alre would be...unimaginably strong. Perhaps the one that would bring an end to the war?

Their imaginations ran wild with unrealistically idealistic fantasies of the future, one where nothing but peace would reign for all time.

The marriage announcement was made on midsummer's eve, a celebration in which the whole clan, save for those still on the front, participated. Coming on the heel of a massacre perpetrated by the Gerudo, it was joyous news, and one that would see them through the dark times ahead.

* * *

"You can't get married."

Impa crossed her arms and leaned against the wooden beam, regarding her little sister with an amused expression. "And why ever not?" she asked.

Iana glared. "It's...gross."

The elder sister rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Sixteen's a little old to be using the word gross, isn't it? And you claim to be the mature one of us?"

They were in the stables, tending to the horses. It was a task in which everyone had to participate-even the children of the clan leader. They were not noble, after all. There was a stable master, of course, who oversaw most of the work, but he was currently at the front, seeing to the cavalry's mounts.

"I _am_ the mature one," Iana protested, gripping the pitchfork tightly enough to make the leather of her gloves creak. "I have to be, what with you two dallying off doing Goddesses know what. _And I know what you're doing!_" She added hastily when Impa opened her mouth to speak. "No need to tell me!"

Impa laughed. "If you say so, sister dear."

"_That_ is the gross part," Iana muttered under her breath, trying to focus on shifting the massive piles of hay from one spot to the other. She had no idea why she was doing this-it had simply been one of the orders left behind by the stable master. At least it helped her focus on something _other_ than the memory of her sister leaving their house through the window, beckoned by Alre's whispers. How they thought they were being subtle was anyone's guess. Iana would be surprised if the whole village didn't already know.

Impa snorted. "We haven't done _that_, you know," she said. "We're not stupid. Have to wait till marriage."

"You've done plenty of _other_ things, though."

At least her sister had the decency to look a _little_ embarrassed at that, though there was very little actual shame to be found in her stupid grin. "Can't be completely celibate," she said.

"I don't want to know," Iana said firmly. "Keep me out of whatever...sordid dealings you two have with each other. I don't care-just go and leave me all alone-"

She tried to cut herself off, but failed. She hadn't meant to say that much. She'd only wanted Impa to stop talking about doing such filthy things. Her hold on the pitchfork tightened once more, and she knew she'd made a mistake when there was no joking reply from her sister to be had. She kept her back turned, trying not to visibly stiffen when she heard Impa's footsteps approaching her from behind...and failed to hide her wince when her sister's arms encircled her, pulling her tightly against her chest.

"Just because Alre and I are getting married doesn't mean we'll leave you behind," Impa said quietly into Iana's ear, hugging her. "We're not going anywhere."

"I know," Iana tried to say, but her voice hitched a little, betraying her true feelings. She didn't want to lose the two people who were most important to her-least of all to _each other_.

Fate is a cruel mistress.

* * *

It was a random shift in the ranks, which rippled through the entire line. Had morale been higher, perhaps the battle could have been salvaged, but the driving rain, hunger, and cold had sent it plummeting, and the Hylian ranks collapsed as the Gerudo advanced, cutting down anyone who mounted a defence.

Impa, Iana, and Alre had been in the camp when news of the frontline's collapse had reached them. There was no time to organise a counterattack-all effort went into staying alive and protecting the civilian horde that inevitably follows such large armies on the road. The king and his son, Prince Rhys, had already pulled back and were out of harm's way. The same did not go for everyone else.

The Gerudo attack came fast and mercilessly. They slaughtered everyone who could not defend themselves. They met a formidable opponent in the shield wall the surviving Hylian soldiers had put up, but the never-ending tide of scimitar-wielding thieves could only be held off for so long...and even with a dozen Sheikah to assist by killing off their commanders, the battle was lost.

It was when the order for a total retreat came through that Iana happened to look up from the Gerudo she had just killed...and spotted Impa taking a crossbow bolt to her lower stomach. Everything else became a blur-her focus only on her sister. Alre was there as well, but he too faded into the background. She had no idea how, but the next thing she was aware of was arriving at an inn that had been converted into an impromptu field hospital for the wounded of the disastrous battle, miles away from the field.

Exhaustion pulled her into the darkness of oblivion, from which she did not wake for at least a day. And when she woke up...

* * *

"Are you certain?"

Mana could only give her a scathing look. "Do you doubt my words, girl?" she asked. "How much experience as a healer do _you_ have?"

Iana gave her one of her own. "Don't take that tone with me! She's _my_ sister!"

"All the more reason to accept the news and help _her_ get through it." The healer turned towards the bed in which Impa was still sleeping, giving the younger woman a pitying look. "It will not be easy on her mind, experience has taught me."

"And there is nothing you can do?" Iana asked, wishing the wails and cries of the wounded and dying in the rest of the building couldn't be heard through the sturdy door to the backroom of the inn. Outside, she knew Alre would be waiting anxiously and trying to listen in, but with the wailing and gnashing would certainly make it a difficult job.

"I worked on her for ten hours," Mana said, rubbing her eyes, which were dark with fatigue and wet with disappointment in her own abilities. "There was too much damage, and the damn poison... All I could do was stop the bleeding and...prevent future issues. It was that, or certain death. I'm sure you prefer this to _that_."

"I doubt Father will agree," Iana said, wondering if he had already been informed of his daughter's injury yet...and how he would react. It was not a difficult thing to imagine. "He was expecting-"

"He should be happy his oldest isn't dead," Mana said firmly. "That's all the meddlesome bastard needs to concern himself with."

Iana was shocked at Mana's tone. Never had she seen the, admittedly, cantankerous healer so distraught. To speak of the clan leader in such a manner was...unthinkable. The healer must have noticed her expression, for her eyes softened considerably, and she softly touched Iana's cheek.

"Pay me no mind, girl," she said. "I am simply tired. I am certain your father will focus on what is important, rather than what could have been."

Iana cast a glance at Impa, who looked so small, so vulnerable in her sleep. She'd always been there to protect and guide Iana, and the idea of her getting injured had been so incongruent with the way Iana saw her that...well, she had no idea how to approach the situation. And having to deliver this particular bit of news...

Fate truly is cruel.

* * *

"How is she?"

Alre looked close to panicking, his handsome face drawn in an agonised expression as he waited for Iana to speak, positively squirming with anxiety. He looked pretty close to collapsing. Iana could sympathise, she felt like keeling over at any moment herself. They'd been up for days at this point, trying to salvage what was left of the battalion that had been almost decimated during the battle.

"She'll...live," Iana said, unsure of how to break the news...or if it was even her place to do it. "The bolt was coated with a poison of some sort. Mana believes she's administered the right antidote, but it's up to Impa at this point." She closed her eyes with a sigh, trying to block out the glimpse of absolute relief she'd seen come to Alre's face. "But..."

Alre drew a breath. "But?"

"The bolt hit...the damage it caused it...she won't be able to have..." It was too difficult to even say. Mana had insisted on the news being delivered immediately, rather than delay the shock, but how could she tell her future brother-in-law that whatever joy they found in their marriage, he and Impa would never be able to have children? The pressure they'd been under from the rest of the clan had been bad enough without the expectation that they would one day produce the clan's future.

Luckily, Alre seemed to understand her halting explanation, and while he did an admirable job of hiding his disappointment, Iana knew that the damage was already done. "I...I see," he said quietly, sinking back into his chair, staring at the door to the backroom, presumably aching to be by Impa's side. Iana hesitated for a moment before sitting in the chair beside his, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's...I'm just glad she's going to make it," he said, the steel in his voice so obviously fake it made Iana's heart ache, for him and her sister both.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. Impa was still not out of the woods-the poison was a vicious one-but Iana had no doubt her sister was much too strong to allow such a little thing to bring her down.

The fact that such a weapon had been employed was worrying in itself, but this was the third time Iana had seen it at work. The other two times, the Gerudo had used it on Sheikah during ambushes. The Sheikah in question had been escorting important officers and government officials, but the targets had seemingly been the Sheikah and no one else. If the Gerudo had shifted their priorities to killing off the red-eyed assassins...

"You should get some sleep," Alre said suddenly. "You look dead on your feet."

"You'll be disappointed to know you don't look much better, oh mighty Paragon," she retorted. "I'm staying until I know she's fine."

"Then have a nap, at least. I'll wake you when something happens."

Fatigue overcame her almost immediately after that, and she found herself unwillingly resting her head on his shoulder, the door to the backroom becoming a brown blur. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll kill you if you don't."

"Understood."

There was a minute of silence.

"She'll be fine, Iana."

"I know."

* * *

Impa wasn't fine. Whether it was the poison that had done something to her mind, or if it was the disappointment once she learned how extensive the injury was, no one knew. Iana certainly didn't, and she'd always believed she knew everything there was to know about her older sister.

"What do you want?"

That was a question she had never had directed at her from Impa before, and certainly not in such a venomous, annoyed tone. Now, she heard it almost every time she entered a room Impa was occupying. A look of barely disguised anger was directed at Iana, who had apparently interrupted yet another of Impa's failed attempts at meditation. Their father had been on the receiving end of her anger just an hour or so before, and had been forced to leave the house out of sheer unwillingness to deal with the rage that seemed to fill Impa these days.

Biting down her own desire to snarl back, reminding herself that it was not Impa's fault (or hoping it wasn't, at least), Iana glanced down at the tray she held in her hands. "I simply wanted to ask if you would like some tea," she said.

"No, thank you," Impa muttered, clearly making an attempt at reining her rampant temper back in. "Now please leave."

"Alre stopped by this morning," Iana said, putting the tray down by Impa's side anyway, ignoring the glare she received. Her sister had begun to miss meals-Iana would not have her turn into a skeleton, which was why said tray was loaded with fatty pastries and other sweets. With any luck, it would help a little. "He wanted to see you."

"I don't want to see him," Impa said, her ire falling a little when she happened to spot a particularly delicious-looking muffin sitting in the middle of the pile. Iana hid her look of triumph as Impa reached for it. "Tell him to stay away."

"He's your betrothed," Iana reminded her. "You can't keep him away forever. The wedding-"

"Is not happening," Impa said, biting into the muffin.

Iana paused, unsure that she understood what her sister had just said. "What?"

"We are not getting married," Impa repeated slowly, suddenly refusing to look at her.

"Why not?"

"There is no point to it." Impa shrugged, sipping at the tea, which was full of honey. Her favourite. "Nothing would come of it."

Iana couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was it truly that easy for Impa to throw Alre aside like this? She _loved_ him, for Goddesses' sake!

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, completely forgetting to be delighted at having her sister eating something. "Nothing would come of it?"

"I can't bear children," Impa said matter-of-factly, as if that alone was reason enough. "Our joining would not be a fruitful one, and therefore meaningless. The Paragon must procreate-otherwise, his entire existence will also be meaningless. Mine already is-"

"Stop it!" Iana yelled. "You can't...you can't just reduce the two of you to...to...to breeding stock! Impa, you love each other-that alone is a reason to marry! Father won't care-"

"Father has already expressed his opinions on the subject," Impa interrupted her, one eye twitching as her hold on the teacup tightened to the point of trembling. "I am not to marry him."

"It's not his decision to make-"

"Except it is. He is our leader. Nothing happens without his blessing, and his orders are absolute. Alre and I are not to be married." She set the cup down and rested her hands on her thighs, taking a deep breath. "As far as he's concerned, my worth has been reduced to simply being a temporary successor until Alre _does_ have a child with an able-bodied woman. I have no say in it anymore, and I should be happy he didn't disown me outright."

Iana gritted her teeth, unable to believe the callousness of the man they called father. "Then run away together. Get away from him."

Impa snorted. "Now there's something I never expected to hear from you, sister. Have you been drinking?"

"Have you?"

Impa shook her head at her, a bitter smile curling at one corner of her mouth. "No. I see things so much clearer now. It is almost...liberating. I loved Alre...but it's easy to set such things aside once you catch a glimpse of the bigger picture. Our people are on the decline-we have to multiply...and my injury prevents me from doing so. Alre is...he is the best of us. He should find someone with whom he can have dozens of little brats." She looked at Iana with a calculating expression. "Father agrees with me on this, and he has already found a candidate for it."

"Who?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

Iana felt a chill go down her back. "Me?"

"Nothing slips past you, eh?"

"Out of the question."

"It's your duty to the clan-"

"Fuck the clan!" Iana shouted, rising to her feet and knocking over the tray. Her sister remained seated, regarding her with a look one would reserve for an unruly child. "I am not marrying him! Impa, what's _wrong_ with you?! You would have fought him tooth and nail on this before...before..."

"Before the Gerudo sterilised me?" Impa finished. "Possibly. But we cannot change what has happened, and I'd rather move past it all rather than get bogged down in the past." She rose up and stood in front of Iana. She'd always been so much taller than her younger sister it wasn't even funny. Now it only made her look sinister, staring down at Iana with an unreadable expression. "He is a good man, and knowing it's you-"

"I refuse."

"You can't refuse. It is an order."

"You're not clan leader yet," Iana hissed, stepping back before the temptation to slug her sister in the jaw overcame her resolve. "I don't take orders from you! And if Father thinks he can force Alre and me into it, he's got another thing coming! You can tell him to stop fantasising-I'd rather run away than be forced into something like this! Besides, Alre will never agree to it!"

"He can be persuaded, I think," Impa said, seemingly ignoring the first part. "He has always understood that the clan's needs come before his own-"

"Are you listening to yourself?!" Iana growled, unable to believe her ears. "Are you honestly telling me you would not object to this?! Is it really that easy for you to cast him aside?!"

Impa's mouth opened and shut a few times before her eyes grew determined. "I never said it was easy-but I understand the necessity and importance of it. I thought you would as well, but clearly my little sister has a lot of growing up to do."

She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to get out. Without responding, Iana turned and strode out of the room, and their house.

Impa remained where she stood for several minutes afterwards, breathing quickly as she tried to get herself back under control. The words were harsh, their meaning awful...but it had to be done. For the greater good. Only when she absolutely certain she was lone, did she let her tears fall...and even that made her angry.

* * *

Alre was never told of the second part of Iana and Impa's conversation. Iana _did_ inform him of the wedding's cancellation and the reason for it, which had him bristling with indignation. He tried to see Impa multiple times afterwards, but she continued to avoid him until he finally broke into their house and confronted her. The screaming match lasted into the night, and Iana had to leave to get away from it, all the while counting her blessings that their father was in Castle Town at the time.

Luckily, the argument never came to blows, and some sort of understanding was apparently reached. Or so Iana assumed. The two would at least acknowledge each other in public after that, though their interactions had become...distant. They were comrades now-nothing more, nothing less. Not friends, not lovers, not betrothed...just two Sheikah with a passing acquaintance. It was painful to watch for Iana, who knew that whatever love the two still held for each other was either being suppressed...or had been outright smothered.

Their father did not breach the subject on marriage anymore, either, which was surprising. Impa had apparently had Words with him upon his return, making it clear that neither of his daughters would be marrying Alre. It left him in a foul mood for weeks, but he never raised the subject again.

The rest of the clan had been left in shock at the news, but soon enough the Paragon was once more being hounded by potential mates and their parents, each hoping to curry his favour. Alre hated it, and more than once he sought refuge in the act of assisting Iana with her chores or training. While he was no longer close with her sister, their friendship still endured. In fact, Iana found a little solace in it. She'd been afraid of losing Impa and Alre when they married, but now she got to keep them both...even if it was in a bittersweet way. Hopefully, she could one day make them see how idiotic they were being.

Who cared about having children anyway?

* * *

"You've been spending a lot of time with Alre lately."

It was a seemingly innocuous observation during the breaking of their fast one morning, about a year after Impa's recovery. She did not look up from her porridge as she spoke, sprinkling a little sugar on it. Her meaning was more than a little clear, however, and Iana's mood, which had been quite good up until that point, was sent plummeting. It sank even further when her sister continued to speak.

"Have you reconsidered Father's proposition?"

Iana set her spoon down gently, determined to make it through this conversation without raising her voice. "I have not," she replied. "Alre and I are simply friends, as we have always been. I do not know if you've noticed, but he does not have many people to turn to when half the clan are simply interested in securing him for marriage."

"So you say."

"I do say so." Impa was baiting her, she knew. For what reason she had no idea, but she had long ago given up on figuring out her sister's motivations or thought patterns, which had changed so radically since her injury. "It would not hurt for you to spend some time with him as well. He misses you."

"I do spend time with him-"

"As something other than simply comrades in arms," she clarified. "He needs as many allies as he can get. He's...lonely."

"He can easily find companionship," Impa said dismissively.

"Can he, though?"

"He has you, does he not?"

This was quickly turning into an exercise in futility, and Iana recognised that her position was a hopeless one at the moment. Impa would simply have the conversation go in circles until she gave up trying to convince her to change her position on Alre. She nodded, shovelling the last spoonful of porridge into her mouth and standing up. "He does," she said.

"That is all he needs."

"You're a cruel woman, sister."

For the first time Impa actually looked at her, her gaze sharp enough to cut. "Am I? Or have I simply been forced to make difficult decisions that will benefit us all, in the end?"

"Perhaps," Iana said. "But the end is a long way off, and for now those decisions are only bringing suffering to the both of you. And I am reaching the end of my patience."

"I will take it under advisement," Impa said with a nod. "Now, I believe you have a patrol to go on."

Iana had lied about her patience. She had reached its end long ago...and now she simply could not be bothered with trying to make her sister see the errors in her ways.

* * *

He helped her sit down by the fire, her head bound with bandages. She luckily wasn't concussed, but she was still quite rattled from the three blows she'd taken to the temple. Her dizziness, and the developing headache, made Iana wish the Gerudo who'd hit her hadn't gotten off so easily.

"Are you all right?" Alre asked, crouching down so he could look her in the eyes. "Should I get Mana?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Just dizzy."

There was a lot of activity around them. The army was trying to recover from the battle that had ended as a brawl in the muddy field, and she had no idea how many casualties there were on both sides. It had ended in a draw, more or less, but the Gerudo had pulled back, which was all the King needed to declare it a victory.

Something was set to boil over the fire, and Iana suspected it was some sort of broth or stew. Around her, another few Sheikah were sitting, also injured. There were two absent faces, however.

"Where is Impa?" she asked.

"In the field," Alre explained, seating himself next to her. "Organising the defences for the counterattack that is sure to come at some point. She's in command...for now."

"Hm."

"What?"

"She's finally where she wants to be, I think." Iana wanted to shake her head at the hopelessness of it all, and her own inability to still her heart at her realisation at how close Alre was sitting. She wasn't supposed to be feeling like this-she was his friend, nothing more. She didn't _want_ to be anything more! "After..._that_...she's wanted to prove herself. Once Father recovers, perhaps she hopes that he will consider her a worthy successor after all."

Alre nodded. "I see..."

"It's not your fault, you know?"

"I know, but...I should have...I could have stopped that bolt, killed the shooter, something, I..."

"Alre," she said, cutting him off. "Don't start thinking up alternative scenarios. What happened happened, and you'll only drive yourself mad if you get yourself bogged down in such fantasies." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "And what does Impa say about fantasies?"

He chuckled. "You're right," he said. "What would I do without you to keep me grounded?"

"Fly away?"

"Or sink."

"As if I'll let that happen," she said with a grin. "I'm not letting you leave that easily. I'm not going to handle all this shit by myself."

"Don't worry," he said firmly. "I've no intention of leaving you."

She blushed a little at the way he said, though he was probably not aware of what his words had sounded like. She shuffled a little closer to him on the bench (for warmth, that was all!). "Hey?" she said carefully.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"Saving my life."

"You've saved mine multiple times," he replied. "Only fair that I return the favour, isn't it?"

She turned her head to look at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "When did I ever save your life?" She couldn't for the life of her remember a combat situation in which Alre _hadn't_ been in complete control and in no mortal danger whatsoever. What on earth could he have meant?

"More times than you'll ever know," he said cryptically. "Though...I was hoping you would do it one more time." He was lowering his head gradually as he spoke, and Iana thought she could spot the faintest of red in his cheeks...though with the state her head was in, it could very well have been his imagination.

"Of...of course," she replied, not really following the development. "What are you...?"

He gave her a look, then, that spoke volumes of what he had in mind. If she hadn't been sitting down, she surely would have keeled over from the sheer volume of information he conveyed in that one moment. Loneliness, longing, yearning... But how...how could this be?

"H...How long?" she asked, unsure if she was in some sort of feverish dream brought on by what _had_ to be concussion, despite what Mana had told her. The heat that was radiating off her cheek would certainly support that theory...as long as she could convince herself that she was _not_ simply blushing from the realisation that he...that Alre...

"I don't know," he said, dropping his gaze to stare at his boots, which were digging into the muddy ground, his fingers winding themselves around each other in a nervous gesture she had only seen a handful of times before. "I...quite a while, I think, but not...not _that_ long...I suppose...a few months? When you spent time with me..."

She'd never seen him this nervous before. Not even when he was betrothed to Impa. He'd always had a natural confidence that took command of every situation he found himself in. He was like Impa, in that regard, and perhaps their respective personalities had complimented each other, in some twisted way. But now...now he was like a...a nervous boy presenting a flower to his first crush. Granted, that effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that they were sitting by a cooking fire at a muddy crossroads in the aftermath of a devastating battle; both of them covered in blood and filth...but it was still...cute.

"I've always been alone," he continued, unheeding of the fact that the other Sheikah around the fire suddenly seemed conflicted about whether or not they should give the two some privacy. Some stayed, some left. Alre paid them no mind. "Never felt like I belonged...even though everyone kept telling me I was their greatest hope. But you and Impa...I...I found a home with you."

"But...Impa..." Iana said, unsure of how to put it into words.

"She has moved on," Alre said, fingers still intertwined and nervously twitching. "And...perhaps it is time I did as well..."

Iana frowned. "I'm just a...a replacement?" Suddenly, the heat was diminishing greatly. If he'd truly felt like she'd thought, then perhaps...but if she was simply second prize...

He looked horrified, eyes widening. "No! No, don't even think that, please! Iana, I...I...I don't even know how to say it...you've been a precious friend...but lately...my heart goes wild when I look at you. I cannot concentrate during training when I know you are looking. All I could think about when the battle went awry was that I had to find you, make sure you were safe. I love Impa, and I always will...but not like that...not in the way I love you."

His head was so low now that she almost feared he'd tip face-first into the fire, so embarrassed was he at his confession. Iana had a feeling she should have found it pathetic, beneath her notice...but all she could think about was how...endearing his consternation and worry was.

Bloody hell, this apparently not-concussion was wreaking havoc with her mind. She was actually considering...! But then...hadn't that been the plan a year ago? And this was different...she actually _wanted_ it this time around...it wasn't expected of her now...so...what harm could it truly...be?

"Alre," she said gently, smiling when he did not even look at her, tensing as he steeled himself for what he presumably believed to be an inevitable rejection. "Look at me."

He did as he was told, slowly, turning towards her. When she deemed him in the right position, she carefully (so as to not upset her head any further) leaned forward, planting the most careful of kisses on his lips.

"I'll gladly save your life again," she said. "If you promise to bury the hatchet with my sister."

His eyes were wide, and a ridiculously stupid smile on his lips. "I...I promise!" he exclaimed.

"About bloody time!" one of the Sheikah by the fire said with a groan. "Never thought you'd get around to it."

"Well done, Alre," said another. "Only took you eternity."

The blush on the Paragon's face could have lit a fire with its heat, Iana was sure. She put a hand on his cheek and forced him to face her once more, smiling as she did so. "Pay them no mind," she said. "They are simply jealous."

He smiled back. "They've every reason to be."

From a distance, Impa watched her little sister kiss her once betrothed once more, and fought down the urge to grin like an idiot. Goddesses, they'd taken their bloody time, hadn't they? It was a good thing Alre had finally gathered his wits and courage, even if it had taken a damn battle for it to happen.

Her grin faded away once reality came crashing back, and she was forced to turn her attention back to the construction of a palisade that would, hopefully, keep the Gerudo at bay until the Royal Army could regroup. She was unsure if she was handling the situation correctly, and wished her father hadn't gotten himself stupidly injured like he had, jumping in front of an arrow meant for the king. It would have been no great loss-Rhys was showing far more potential as a ruler anyway, despite his young age.

But what good were what-ifs? She turned back to the engineer who, up until a few minutes ago, had been deep in her explanation of the best position for the defensive wall.

* * *

**1057 - One year before Sheik was born**

* * *

The months that followed were cast in the shadow of the clan leader's death. It had been slow, and agonising. It was, truth be told, a relief when his eyes closed for the last time and his final breath rattled in his throat. It meant he was free of his suffering, and the uncertainty could finally come to an end. Impa assumed the mantle of leadership immediately afterwards, a role to which she adjusted quickly thanks to having taken over most of her father's duties the day he'd fallen on the battlefield.

About six months after his death, her sister and Alre, who announced themselves with no further ado and spoke of their desire, interrupted Impa during her meditation.

"You are sure of this?" Impa asked, studying the two standing in front of her closely, her arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. Iana met it with a stern face of her own, while Alre simply smiled at her, more than used to her demeanour. It was getting difficult not to smile back. "Once the ceremony is performed, there is no taking it back. You will be bound together for life. It is not a decision to make lightly."

"We are sure," Iana said, her fingers intertwined with Alre's. "We have discussed it, and decided. We wish to be wed."

"You agree with this, Alre?" Impa asked, looking at him.

"I do," he replied, nodding. "I love her."

"I am hesitant to agree, myself," Impa said, making a show of looking contemplative, though everyone in the room (that is, the three of them) knew she was simply dragging it out for her own twisted amusement. "You have not been together for that long."

"Eight months is an eternity in a life like ours," Iana said, gripping Alre's hand tightly. "The war is not going well. More of us are dying every day. Goddesses know if we will even be alive come this time next year. Do we not deserve to be happy for the time we have left, no matter how little it may be?"

Impa's mouth twitched. "I...suppose that is a rather...effective way of putting it. Melodramatic, of course, but that is simply what I've come to expect from you, sister dear."

"Do you agree, or not?" Iana growled.

Impa took a long moment to regard them both closely, sharp eyes studying their faces closely, as if trying to gauge the sincerity of their request...which was ridiculous in a way Iana could not even describe. Granted, had someone told her a year ago that she would find herself standing here, clutching Alre's hand as his lover, she would have laughed in that person's face. And...well, it was Impa. She had a rough demeanour and a way with words that had most people believing she was anything but a kind-hearted person who loved her family above all else. It was a good way to remain an authority, but off-putting in every other situation.

"Very well, I agree," she finally said, finally letting herself smile. "And I am glad of it. Goddesses knows how much longer Alre would be able to stand the waiting."

"Oi!" he exclaimed, his face immediately falling into its best impression of a tomato.

"We've done _stuff_!" Iana protested.

Impa groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I did not need to know _that_!" she muttered. Then her gaze, knife-like in its sharpness, landed on Alre. "Tell me, my dear Alre, that you have not _defiled_ my sister out of wedlock..."

"I haven't, I swear!" he said, suddenly terrified and backing away...or trying to, at any rate, since Iana still had not let go of him, keeping him rooted in place. "We've only-"

"I don't want to know the _specifics_!" she screamed in a horrified manner that had Iana practically crumpling from laughter. "Get away from my sister, you fiend!"

All three of them were laughing at this point. Well, Impa and Iana were. Alre was trying to fade quietly into the background, but failing miserably. He suddenly found himself wishing he'd never met the two sisters...a wish that evaporated when Iana looked at him with an expression reserved only for him, and had him melting.

"So," Impa said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "When should we hold it? I have to announce it, of course, and-"

"Right now," Iana interrupted.

"N-Now?"

"Yes. There is no time to lose. Right here, right now."

"But surely the clan should be present as witnesses?"

She shook her head. "No, you are the only witness we need or want. If they're that damn curious, you can tell them in the morning. You're the one with the power to wed us, so hop to it." She crossed her arms (just like her sister did) and tapped her foot expectantly.

"You're not even dressed for the occasion," Impa tried to protest.

"We're in our uniforms, which are perfectly capable of serving the role as wedding garb."

"There is no food-"

"You have muffins. I saw them in the kitchen."

Impa sighed and rubbed her eyes once more. The curse that were little sisters, sometimes, she swore... "Very well," she said, looking at them. "Since you are in such a damn hurry, I will hold the short version of the ceremony as well, shall I?"

"It would be very much appreciated," Alre said helpfully, smiling sheepishly. "No offence, Impa, but once your sister has her mind set on a goal..."

"She does not stop until it is accomplished, yes, I know," Impa finished. "It is a rather good quality, I find, though sometimes-"

"It'll drive you up the wall."

For a moment, it was like they were back to normal. Like none of the...bad...had happened. Just the three of them, laughing and having fun. But reality soon returned, and they found themselves assembled in the living room soon after, a quick, impromptu ceremony being held. There were no guests or witnesses beyond the three of them-which was fine, because the people they loved were all gathered. The ceremony was conducted with haste, and the food consumed quickly. And then Iana and Alre were leaving Impa's house, heading for Alre's domicile.

Their hands roamed all over each other as they closed the door to his room, lips locked and tongues duelling for supremacy. They had done naughty things before, but this time it felt different. There was...anticipation, for the act that was to come. It had been so difficult to put it off, but this felt right. This felt like they'd expected it to.

It was an unforgettable night, and one Iana would treasure the memory of for the rest of her life.

* * *

"You're to be a father."

"I am."

Impa glared at him. "I hope you're aware of the responsibilities that come with this role. Life will be quite different when the little one arrives."

"I'm quite aware," Alre replied, glaring back. "I have been speaking to the other fathers of the clan. Asked them for advice, and such. They have been...most unhelpful. Their tips are conflicting with each other, their experienced differing wildly. I am therefore convinced there is no truly right way of raising a child."

"It is most vexing," Impa said, nodding. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you."

"And, do remember that if you even as much as _think_ about leaving the child or my sister because you cannot handle it...well, I do not care if you are the Paragon. I will hunt you down and kill you."

"I would be disappointed if you didn't."

"That is all. You may go."

Alre did not move, remaining standing by Impa's hearth. It had been a long journey back from the front, and the news of his and Iana's impending little one had, to say the least, been surprising. He was a little unsure of what to do with himself at the moment. Iana was waiting in their little house, but he felt compelled to stay a little longer.

"I'm sorry." He felt his lips move without his permission, and the words were spoken before he even knew what he was apologising for. Impa did not know either, based on her puzzled countenance.

"What for?"

"For...how it all turned out." Why was he saying this? Why was he ripping up the past, which should have stayed buried?

Impa froze for but a moment, and then gracefully lowered herself into a chair by the fire, though she did not motion for Alre to do the same.

"There is nothing to apologise for," she said, not looking at him. "There was nothing you could have done to stop it. I never blamed you. Not once. Even if I acted...distantly at the time, not one iota of blame did I lay at your feet." She touched her stomach, rubbing at the large scar he knew was there.

"Do I sometimes wonder how things would have been, had the bolt missed, or been aimed at someone else? Of course. It's impossible not to. I even find myself _wishing_ this or that had happened. But they didn't. So they are nothing but fleeting little fancies...and nothing more."

She looked at him, noting his dishevelled appearance from weeks on the road. "The story ends well, Alre. That is more than enough for me. And this way...well, I can focus on the clan, and leave everything else to you...for which you will hate me when the nightly crying begins." She gave him a crooked grin. "I already feel sorry for you and Iana."

"The child will need its aunt too, you know," he said, feeling as if _some_ of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted.

"I know," Impa said, nodding. "I get to be there for the fun things. The aunt's privilege, so to speak, whilst leaving the suffering to the parents."

"Always a silver lining, eh?"

"Always, Alre."

"I should be getting back to Iana..."

"Yes. You should. She's been so anxious, waiting for you. I thought she was going to steal a horse and ride to meet you herself, but I was luckily able to convince her not to."

"That bad, eh?"

"No. Worse."

Alre did not even want to _begin_ to hear of the suffering his sister-in-law had been though in his absence, and was soon back outside, heading for their house...and Iana.

* * *

**1058**

* * *

"He's perfect," Iana muttered, looking at the swaddled bundle she was gently holding in her arms. Within, something living was gurgling and cooing, little fingers reaching out and grabbing whatever they could find. "He has your nose."

Alre found himself unable to speak, his tongue and lips refusing to cooperate at the sight of the tiny little being in his wife's arms. His son. _His_ son. So small, so...so...

"Do you want to hold him?" Iana asked, looking more tired than he had ever seen her before. The birth had happened hours ago, but she had remained awake ever since, waiting for Mana to finish her examination of the newborn, and for Alre to finally be allowed inside the infirmary.

"Y-Yes," he managed to choke out. He carefully took the bundle and held it in his arms, feeling awkward the entire time. For the first time in his life, he felt as if his physique was unsuitable for such a task, as if he would accidentally squash the tiny baby that was staring up at him with such wide, red eyes. He reached out for Alre, who wiggled one of his fingers in front of his son's face. The grip around it was so tight... "Hello," he said, tears of happiness gathering in his eyes. "I'm your daddy."

The door opened, and Impa strode inside hesitantly, as if expecting to be greeted with a child's screams from merely entering the room. "I...I was told it was finally over?" she said, more timid than Alre had ever seen her. "Do I have a nephew or niece?"

"You have a nephew," Iana said, exhaustion marring her voice, though her smile was no less brilliant. "He is healthy."

Impa ignored Alre and her nephew for the moment, choosing instead to approach Iana and crouch by her bedside. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like I could sleep for a month," Iana replied. "Not particularly comfortable, either, but...fine, otherwise."

"I'm glad," Impa said, kissing her forehead. "Now, I suppose I should introduce myself."

Alre almost expected his son to fail his aunt's inspection, but he could easily see Impa's eyes soften to a degree he had never quite seen before as she gazed at the newborn, hesitantly reaching out to stroke his chubby little cheeks.

"He is...beautiful," she murmured. "He has your nose, Alre."

"I'm starting to wonder if that's supposed to be a compliment or not, with how much you keep pointing that out," Alre said jokingly, transferring his son to Impa's arms. She cradled him just as gently as his parents had, if not even more. "What do you think?"

"I think we will have to reconsider who we consider to be our Paragon," Impa said, only half-joking. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

"Sheik," Iana said immediately. "If he is to be the future of our people...then surely he should bear our name?"

"You've given it a lot of thought," Impa observed.

"From the moment he was born."

"And you agree, Alre?"

He found himself nodding. Iana had made no mention of the name before, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. Yes. Sheik. His son's name was Sheik. "I do," he confirmed. "It suits him."

"It does," Impa agreed, gazing fondly at her nephew. "Little Sheik...welcome to the clan."

* * *

She gently unfurled the shroud and covered him with it, only pausing for a moment to kiss him one last time before his face was obscured as well. The chamber around her was deathly still save for the stirrings and annoyed protests from Sheik, who surely did not understand what was happening. Everyone else was observing the ceremony with sad eyes. Iana stepped back from the dais and sat down in a cross-legged position. The others did the same. Sheik protested louder at the jostling movement, but Impa soon had him calmed down his once more in her arms.

No words were spoken. None were needed. After all, what was there to say about a shadow, whose existence was a mere flicker? The silence went uninterrupted for several minutes as Iana conjured up all the moments in which she had been happy, the ones Alre had been the cause of...trying desperately not to think of the moment she had received the news.

A targeted assassination, it had been. The Gerudo knew who he was, and what he meant to the Sheikah. It had put him at the top of their hit list. They'd caught him and his companions unawares, in the middle of the Royal Army camp. They could easily have killed King Rhys, but went after Alre instead. He'd nearly fought them to a standstill, too, but in the end he was overwhelmed by their superior numbers.

Iana gotten the news the next day...and from that moment it was as if the world had turned a little dimmer, a little darker...

She fought the bad memories off. They would do her no good. Now was a time for remembering the good ones, to ensure that Alre crossed over in a peaceful manner. Negative thoughts would not assist in that.

The ceremony lasted for an hour, during which silence reigned supreme. Sheik had fallen asleep at some point, but he awoke when everyone began to file out of Alre's tomb, the solid door slamming shut behind them. He began to cry, his wails echoing throughout the immense labyrinthine catacombs beneath Kakariko Village. The others gave him sad looks, but did not say anything. It was not their place to do so. Soon, only Iana, Impa, and Sheik were left in the cold stone hall.

"Shh, shh, it's all right," Impa said, trying to comfort her inconsolable nephew. "Don't cry, don't cry..."

"Get him out," Iana said, her back turned to them. "He'll catch a cold down here."

"What about you?"

"I'll stay a little longer."

"Are you sure?"

"I need to say goodbye...alone."

Impa nodded. "I understand. I will take him home. Don't stay here for too long, all right?"

"I won't."

Impa went to leave, but hesitated. "I'm...sorry, Iana. I truly am."

"Thank you..."

When Impa was finally gone, Iana let herself go, releasing the pent-up sorrow and anger in a wail that could have rivalled that of the dead spirits that roamed the halls. She slid to the floor in front of the door, wishing it would open and reveal her husband sitting up, alive and well, having played an awful prank on her...but it did not open, and she knew the veil would remain undisturbed until the door was opened next.

She did not try to stop the tears, or the sobs that shook her frame. Her throat ached from the screaming, her head throbbing from the exertion.

Alre was gone. Dead. She'd never see him again. Sheik would...Sheik would never know him, wouldn't even remember him. Had he understood, in that chamber, that his father was being put to rest, that it was his last chance to ever see his face? She hoped he did...and at the same time, didn't. It was a cruel thing to hoist upon a child so young, but...Iana didn't want to be the only one who remembered Alre as he was in the privacy of their home, in the presence of his family.

She didn't know how many hours she spent before the door. She wasn't even aware of herself rising to her feet, slowly trudging out of the Shadow Temple, sealing the door, and making her way to Impa's-now their, once again-house on the small hill overlooking the village gates. She was barely aware of opening the door, and the warm, helping hands that immediately had her sit in front of the fire.

Only when her arms were filled with the wriggling bundle of her son, did Iana fully return to the world, her attention immediately drawn to Sheik.

"He missed you," Impa said softly from the other chair, watching her sister and nephew with a serene smile. "Fussed the entire time, but calmed immediately when you returned."

"Mmm," Iana murmured, kissing Sheik's forehead.

"Are you all right?"

Iana didn't look up, only shook her head slightly. "No...but I will be. I have to be. For him." She lifted Sheik so she could gaze meaningfully into his eyes. "I will never let you forget your father, Sheik. I will tell you stories of him, have pictures drawn...the clan will sing songs about him, remind you of how they saw him. And through all this, you will know him, and how much he loved you. That, I swear to you."

Sheik did not seem to understand what she was saying, but he smiled regardless. Iana could do little but smile back. As long as she had him, and Impa, things would be all right.

They had to be.

_To be continued…_

* * *

**This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend of mine, without whose support I never would have written the Souls stories. Thank you, Mal, and a happy and very belated birthday to you.**

**Like the story? Please leave a review!**


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